


Ian's Australian Roommate

by Squeakyshroom



Category: Maxmoefoe - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, idubbbz - Fandom
Genre: College!AU, Dubcon Cuddling, Dubcon Kissing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Time Blow Jobs, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Misogyny, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Prank Wars, Rutting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-11-19 18:29:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11319138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeakyshroom/pseuds/Squeakyshroom
Summary: Only in college can you go from enemies to friends to lovers.OR: Max and Ian hate each other....until they don't.





	1. Rough Start

It's move in day, and Ian can't find his glasses. They were in his room -or at least he swore they were- when he went to sleep. Now they're gone, and he's leaving for college in an hour.

Ian stumbles into the bathroom. He even checks the trash can because sometimes his glasses fall off the counter. No luck. He calls his mom from over the banister, and she shouts back that he should wear the old pair.

"But I can't see in these," Ian shouts, and he knows he's being over dramatic.

He puts on the old glasses anyways. Fuck. He trips over the boxes in the main hall. It takes him and his mom twenty minutes longer than it should to haul everything into the van. There's a thick sheen of sweat over his forehead when he finally collapses into the front seat.

"You don't want to drive?"

"I want to die."

"No time for that- you've still got four years of college to look forward to."

Ian nods and rests his hot cheek against the cool glass window. He watches as the houses and trees from his suburban town blur by. His mom turns on the radio, and he's grateful for that cheesy Katy Perry song because at least they won't have to sit in silence.

One hour in his mother turns down the radio: "Do you know who your roommate is, sweetie?"

"I told you," Ian sighs. "I don't know. He doesn't have a Facebook or whatever, so I couldn't contact him. I think the university said his name was Max in the email, so."

"What does he look like?"

"I'll know when you know," Ian admits and turns the music back up.

His heart jumps when they finally pull up in front of his building. It's thirteen stories tall, so he has to crane his neck to see the top. What was his room number again? 1313? Shit, Ian's not superstitious or anything, but the unlucky number make his stomach twist.

He's greeted by a thin woman, Hila, who's the RA on his floor. She's quiet, and Ian likes that. She points out the laundry room before they enter the elevator.

"You'll just have to sign these papers while I inspect the room. Ok? I think your roommate is already there," Hila says with a friendly smile. Ian nods as he pushes up his glasses. He can do this. College will be his bitch.

When they arrive on the thirteenth floor, one of the doors is already open, and Ian can see a blurry figure sitting on the right side of the room in what appears to be an oversized pokeball sweatshirt. He squints to make out a delicate face. Clear skin. Light eyes. Black frames. Red lips. Judging by the thickness of those crossed thighs, it must be a girl.

Hila nods over to the room with the pretty girl in it, and Ian pauses in the doorway.

"Uh, this is _my_ room?"

"Yes-"

"Then what's that girl doing there?"

"Wot? Wot the fuck did you call me, mate?" A deep Australian voice comes out of the girl- okay, no, not a girl. That is definitely one angry Australian bloke, who just happens to have a pretty face and thick thighs.

Ian steps into the room and pushes up his useless glasses. He should explain that these are old, and he has shit vision. He should apologize. Instead, Ian says with a sharp, shit-eating grin-

"I was wondering why I have this pretty lesbian sitting in my room instead of Max? Are you his sister, Maxine?"

"Oi, fuck off, you cunt," the boy screams as he jumps from the bed to his feet, and he's up in Ian's face now.

Hila's eyes are wide, and she tries to step  between them: "Woah, boys. Please. Calm down-"

"NO! DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN WHEN HE JUST FUCKING CALLED ME A GIRL! YOU GOT FUCKING EYE DAMAGE, MATE? YOU MENTALLY RETARDED? WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU THINK I'M A GIRL? HUH?"

Max is red and inches away from his face. His breath comes in little pants against Ian's cheek. 

Ian's still smiling even as his pulse quickens. He was infamous in high school for never losing his cool, and he was voted 'Most Likely to Pull a Snowden’ in the yearbook (why was that a category?). But this isn't high school anymore. It's college.

"Nobody else has made that mistake? Judging by your reaction, this isn't the first. I mean you've got really thick thighs...mate."

The red anger turns into an embarrassed flush, and Ian really should apologize for fucking up this badly. Instead, he just blinks. Like the asshole he is.

"Say. That. One. More. Time," Max grits, jabbing Ian's chest with his finger to punctuate every word.

"What? That you look like a girl or that you have nice thighs?"

_Crack!_

The fist collides with his face, and Ian slams against the wall. Hila is whisper screaming into her RA walkie-talkie. Ian puts a hand to his throbbing face. Okay, to be fair, he might have deserved that. All of it.

In a minute, a man is restraining Max and leading him out of the room. Ian's mother runs into the room and kneels by his side.

"Who- who was that?"

Ian smiles and wipes the blood from his face: "Guess we found out what my roommate looks like."

\---------

Max hates Ian, and Ian...well, he hates the way Max treats him.

To be fair, Ian started this. He had apologized (under his mother and RA's supervision) to Max, but Max had spit at his feet. The first night sleeping in his new room, Ian had almost cried. Almost. All of his high school friends were gone, and he was alone with some Australian pretty boy, who hated his guts. Ian had fallen asleep with a heavy heart and throbbing face.

Now there's a whole weekend until classes start, and their schedule is full of mandatory assemblies. Ian offers to go with Max, and Max ignores him in favor of his Pokemon game. Ian is all for Pokemon, sure, but Max's room looks like a twelve-year-old's wet dream. Ian kicks at a pikachu plushie.  

"Look. You punched my face. I apologized. What more do you want? For me to suck your dick?" Ian asks and then lowers his voice. "Because I really am sorry that I called you a girl. My glasses are-"

"Yeah, ok. I get it. But you're a fucking dick, and I don't want to be friends," Max spits.

"It's going to be a pretty shitty semester if we hate each other."

"Tough titties then cunt."

Ian sighs and tries to put his hand on Max's shoulder. Max flinches, jerks back, and gives Ian the middle finger.

"Fuck. Sensitive, huh? We can walk to the assembly in silence. How's that?"

Max doesn't say anything, but he does put on his UGG's. He looks even more girly with his curly hair, baggy green sweatshirt, and UGG's. Ian is still firm that he's not the first (nor the last) to mistake Max for a girl, but he decides not to push it.

They walk in silence and sit next to each other in the auditorium because they don't yet have any other friends. There’s an RA behind them, so Ian can't even dick around on his phone. The dude drones on and on about how not to do drugs while driving or have sex while doing drugs or have sex while driving on drugs. Something like that. Ian wants to get drunk afterwards and play in ongoing traffic.

"That was lame," Ian says as they wait in the cafeteria line for a slice of pizza. His hand accidentally brushes against Max's, and the boy jumps back.

Ian snickers at the overreaction, and he's about to ask Max if he's gay....then he thinks about it. If Max got his Australian panties in a twist about his gender, he's not going to respond well to Ian poking at his sexuality. Oh, well. It's funny how Max reacts so violently to his touch, and Ian makes a game out of gently brushing his fingertips on different parts of Max. He smirks as Max yelps, catching onto his game.

"Yer a right fucking dick, you know that, mate?"

"Try again," Ian says as he takes a deep bite of pizza. "This time using the English language."

"American shitter."

"Australian faggot," Ian quips, forgetting his promise not to mention sexuality.

Max flushes the prettiest shade of red that Ian has ever seen, and, wow, ok maybe it was worth it just for that cute reaction.

"You'd better be careful with that mouth of yours, Ian. Could get you in a lot of trouble."

"Gonna punch me again? Heard Hila telling Ethan you could be expelled for more violence. But go ahead- I'd love to get another roommate. Hopefully he won't have a gigantic dildo wedged up his tight pussy."

"I know where you sleep," Max continues, going for ominous and coming closer to dork with pizza sauce on his top lip. Ian wants to reach forward and wipe it away. The intrusive image of him leaning in to lick it off makes Ian shake his head. Nope. Not the time for these kinds of thoughts.

Ian rolls his eyes and checks his phone: "There's a couple pokemon in the area if you wanna find them."

Max's nerd eyes light up despite themselves. If he didn't hate Ian's guts, they would be rather good friends. So they spend the next twenty minutes wandering around, looking for rare pokemon. Ian brushes his hand over the small of Max's back and earns himself a high pitched squeak. Worth it? Worth it.

Ian goes to sleep early, but his bladder wakes him up. He reaches over to his nightstand to find his glasses. Gone. He yawns, stretches, and then steps-

"Fuck!" Ian yelps as he falls to the ground, hitting his head against the bedpost. A sharp pain pulsates from his toe, where a mouse trap is attached. 

"Oh shit, yer fucking face. So good. Say hi to the viewers," Max smirks down at him and waves his camera.

Ian wipes the tears that threaten to spill down his cheeks and throws the mousetrap at Max's smug face. It bounces off of the camera lenses. 

“Oh, two can play at this shitty prank game. You, Max, have no idea what you're messing with," Ian seethes, pushing past Max, as he hops to the bathroom.

At least he didn't piss himself. Max -nor how many hundred viewers he has- would never let Ian live that down. He closes his eyes, presses his forehead against the cool tiles, and plots as he pees. If you fuck with Ian, prepare to get your ass handed to you.

In the morning, Ian's on his best behavior. He sweeps the floors and keeps quiet on his side of the room. Max, despite his smug face, is jumpy, waiting for Ian to retaliate. But Ian's more into psychological over physical torture. Make the bastard squirm for a couple days. So stiff uncomfortable air hangs over room 1313 like a tangible weight. 

"You're trending on Youtube," Max says from atop his bed, breaking the stiff silence. Ian lets his eyes rest on where Max's t-shirt rides up, showing just a red hint of his boxers. 

"Yeah, right. With all twelve of your twelve year old fans?" 

"Try twenty thousand."

"Oh, fuck, I'm wet. Your internet fame has really piqued my interest. I didn't realize until you'd mentioned your subscriber count just how much I wanted to suck your cock."  

Max flushes and squirms under Ian's gaze. He opens his mouth as if to retaliate but settles with a middle finger. Sick burn. 

Despite his aloofness, Ian is interested. That afternoon he opens a cognito window and types 'Max Stanley' into Youtube. Sure enough there's 'PRANKING ROOMMATE WITH MOUSETRAP' with over 100,000 views. Ian gives the video a thumbs down. He scrolls down to read the comments, and they're all just laughing at his misfortune. The internet is for sadism and porn. In this case, it's sadistic porn at Ian's expense. The top comment is 'Pls make more prank vids with ur roommmate!!!!!' Max has liked the comment. 

'Watch your ass, Maxine,' Ian types out and then posts. Two can play at this game. 

He waits until Max takes a nap in his oversized sweatshirt and tighty whities, naked thighs exposed, and then draws a dick on his face with sharpie. Classic. Ian snaps a picture on snapchat with the caption 'thicc.' He then sends it to his chinese hacker friend and asks him if he could get this on the front page of the school. It's done within an hour.

Does it cross a line? Maybe.

Is it worth it? Oh, hell yeah.

Ian gently wakes up Max, who swats at his hands: "Wha'?"

"Look at the school's homepage. There's this hot lesbian. Think you could get me her number? I’d love to fuck her tight pussy."

"What the…? IAN! IAN TAKE THAT PHOTO DOWN RIGHT NOW!" Max screams and lunges for Ian, misses and falls off his bed. Oh shit, Max's face is hysterical. Ian enjoys Max pleading him to take it down more than he's willing to admit. He looks pretty when he begs. 

The photo is down within the hour, but -who cares?- the internet is forever, and it's already been spread via screenshots. A post with the picture goes semi-viral on their (unofficial) campus Facebook page.  

"The only consolation I have is that my prank video is almost at a million videos, so I get money from the ads. You can't monetize off my pain, can ya?"

"Oh, Max. Your misery is priceless."

And Max does suffers much more than Ian has to. Because for the rest of the weekend, students recognize Max and shout 'thicc' when he passes by. After the tenth (cat?) call, Ian's annoyed. Max looks vaguely like he wants to cry and it's just...it's not _that_ funny.

"Hey, thicc," calls a dude smoking a cigarette.

Max balls up his fists, but Ian pushes him out of the way: "Hey, dude. Can you lay off? It was funny yesterday."

"Your friend should be honored to be a meme," the guy says and quirks his eyebrow. "To be memed is to be immortalized."

"Yeah, well, it's not fookin' funny," Max seethes and glares at Ian.

"I'm sensing hostility here. Possibly some sexual tension."

Ian laughs, "Possibly. Name's Ian- also known as Max Thicc's roommate."

"Hello, Max Thicc. Hello, Max Thicc's roommate. Name's Joji."

Max accepts the handshake, but Ian thinks he’s being polite because he’s sick of eating alone with Ian. The three of them get a table together in the cafeteria, and they fucking hit it off. Joji is a film major, and he wants the two of them to star in a bunch of his videos. They agree because...hey, why not? At one point, Max laughs at a joke Ian makes and then covers his mouth, flushing furiously.

"Yep, that's some thicc ass sexual tension," Joji says with a sad nod.

"I'm going to get him back for that. Don't you worry, Ian."

"I look forward to it, princess," he teases and boops Max on the nose, which earns him a shove and a slurry of curses.

It's too easy.

\---------

The third (and final) prank is god awful. That shit is basically Jake Paul levels of stupid. So...it's bound to also go viral. 

It starts with Ian meeting a cute girl, Annie, from his Psych class. She askied him to help her study, and he was happy to oblige. He texted Max that he needed the room all night, and Max easily agreed. Too easily.

"Did..." Ian pauses and squints at Annie. "Do you know my roommate, Max?"

"Uh, the Thicc boy?"

Ian bites his lip to stop himself from laughing: "Yeah, that kid."

"I sometimes see him around. Why?"

"No reason. We're just having a prank war, and I'm wondering if he set you up for anything?"

"Uh, no. I wanna study with you, Ian," Annie says, curling a brown lock of hair around her finger. With her green eyes and black glasses, she looks like Max. Ian shakes his head to banish the thought from his head. He takes her hand as he leads her towards the elevator. She leans in to whisper that she forget her textbook. Oh, so it's gonna be that kind of study session.

They get in the bed and start to make out, but Ian leaves it to check for any hidden cameras on Max's side of the room. Nope. Annie perches on the edge of the bed and scratches her thigh, waiting for him to return.

"Sorry. Just paranoid. My roommate's a Youtuber, and you can't be too careful."

"Come here," Annie purrs and spreads her legs. Ian's more than happy to stand between her thighs and kiss her, but he can't shake off the feeling that Max has done something. But what? It's kind of fucked up to be thinking about your roommate when you're moments away from hooking up with a hottie, but that's the story of Ian's life.

They fuck and that's about all he can say about it. It's a nice hard fuck. Ian's happy to have popped his college cherry and to have a night away from Max. Annie's not a cuddler, so they sleep back to back.

Ian has trouble falling sleeping. It feels like his skin is crawling. He wants to toss and turn, but he also doesn't want to disturb Annie. When hears the door slowly creak open at one AM, Ian stares at Max's black form, wondering if he did anything. Poke holes in the condoms? Give Annie herpes? He falls asleep with skin crawling paranoia racing over him.  

He wakes up to screams.

"What? What happened?"

Ian turns on the light besides his bed.

Annie sits up, and her arms and legs are covered with red, swollen bumps. Ian curses and looks down at his own skin to find that he's also got the same pattern of sores. Shit.

"B-bed bugs," Annie sputters and scrambles out of his bed, but her leg is caught in his covers. She falls down face first. There are tears streaming down her face, and Ian can't process it.

"Wha'?"

"THERE ARE BUGS. IN. YOUR. BED. I have a kickline meet today, and I'm supposed to go covered in bites? WHAT kind of sick joke is this?"

"I didn't know? They weren't there before- I swear to god-"

She slaps him hard across the chest, which is ridiculous. How could Ian have known that there would be bed bugs? And why would he sleep in the same bed if he had known about them? Annie is too hysterical right now for logic.

She tugs on her clothes and leaves (but not without another swing at Ian). He backs away, arms raised in surrender.

Ian, mouth agape, looks around and that's when his eyes fall onto Max's glinting camera lense. Oh, that fucker. Ian leaps up with a "fucking Aussie cunt," and then they're wrestling on top of Max's covers. Max holds on tight to the camera, but Ian wrestles it out of his grip and throws it to the foot of the bed. 

" _You_? You put bugs into my bed?!"

"You should have seen your face when- when she slapped you," Max snickers.

"Dude, it's not even that funny of a prank."

"I'm laughing, and I bet the internet will too when- _agh!_ "

Ian has his hands around Max's throat, and he squeezes down. Hard. Max chokes, still giggling, and kicks around, feebly trying to escape Ian's grip. Ian lets go when he decides on an appropriate punishment for the crime.

"Yeah? Well jokes on you," Ian seethes. "Now I have to share your bed. Move over."

It's early on a Monday morning, so Ian shoves open Max's covers and lies down next to him. Knowing it'll annoy Max, Ian wraps his arms around the other boy's waist. Max's face goes from gleeful to glum as he realizes the consequences for his "prank."

He squirms in Ian's arms, but Ian doesn't give a fucking shit. If this pretty boy wants to play with fire, he can expect to get burned.

"You better not fucking post this video footage," Ian threatens, squeezing Max's waist, even though he knows the Aussie has already made up his mind.

"I'm gonna profit the fuck off this. You know how hard it was to hunt down those bedbugs? Also that chick's reaction is so over the top people are gonna think it's fake."

"I can already see the click bait-y title. Something retarded like 'I Put Bugs in His Bed! Gone Sexual!!!' You know your videos are the cancer of youtube, right?"

"Your pain is my gain," Max huffs and finally breaks out of his grip. He leaves Ian alone in their room. See, there's no way that Max can kick him out or Ian will inform the administration about the bed bugs, and -combined with the punching incident- Max might get expelled. Making the best of these shitty circumstances, Ian spreads his whole body, so it's covering all of Max's bed. He buries his face into the pillow, and it smells nice- just like Max.  

Afterwards, Ian quarantines his bed by stuffing it into air tight zip lock bags. Ugh, now what? Hila would know what to do… Instead of asking for help, Ian leaves it there and heads for psych class.

When Ian arrives, Annie’s at the front of the room telling the professor that she's switching classes. Bit of an over reaction. When he gets up to try and apologize, she runs -runs!- away like he gave her herpes instead of just bed bug bites. This earns him a wolf whistle from one of the boys. Ian flushes, and he's glad that he'll be sleeping with Max again tonight. Bastard deserves to have all his covers hogged.

"You're...really going to sleep with me?" Max asks as Ian neatly folds his clothes that night.

"Mhm, try not to get too excited, princess."

Max just gapes at him and crosses his arms: "Fine. Whatever. I guess I deserve this shit for infesting your bed and recording it, but- but you better not try to cuddle me again. Ok?"

"Ok."

Ian goes in first, taking the space under Max's 'Rick and Morty' poster. He opens up the bed covers and mockingly wiggles his eyebrows at Max, who flushes in response. Unlike this morning, Ian's actually excited to be sleeping next to his roommate. He's not sure if he likes it because it makes Max flustered and he's an asshole or- no, there's no 'or.' Ian's just an asshole.

Max, also in nothing but his boxers, tries to act nonchalant about the whole thing. He turns his back to Ian and pulls out his phone to record a snapchat-

"Hey, guys. I'm here. With Ian. You'll understand when you watch the video. I..." He squeaks when Ian hugs him from behind. "I think this prank war has gotten out of hand." 

Max sends the snapchat, elbows Ian off of him, and scrolls through twitter. It's silent except for their breathing. Ian’s eyes start to grow heavy when he hears a small- "Ian?"

The sound makes Ian bite his lip, and it feels like they're two little boys, whispering at a sleepover.

"Yeah?"

"It was a shitty prank, you know? I was editing the footage, and I realized just how horrible it looked. I mean yours was at least meme-worthy. Mine was just a cunty thing to do. I didn't know you were bringing over that girl until after I'd already done it, but, even if I didn't, it was still shitty. And I think..." Max pauses his stream of thought and lowers his voice again, like he's about to tell a secret. "I think I feel bad, so I'm...sorry."

Silence.

Wow, Max actually being a big boy and apologizing? Well, Ian's not going to be showed up like that. He's going to be an even bigger boy.

"Apology accepted. You were a dick for putting bugs and mouse traps in my bed and recording it, and I was a dick for humiliating you online, and you were a dick for punching me, but I was the original dick for calling you a girl. I feel bad. So, basically, I'm sorry for starting this retarded prank war when we could have been friends this whole time. Truce?"

"Truce," Max agrees. "Maybe we can combine forces and prank the shit outta Joji. Asshole's been getting a little too comfortable. Plus...views." 

"Hell yeah."

Ian’s always known, somewhere deep inside of him, that he and Max would be the best of friends. All they had to do was pull their heads outta their asses. He falls asleep with a smile tugging at his lips.

\---------

In the morning, there's a heavy warmth on his chest. Something soft tickles his neck. What happened yesterday? Bed bugs. Prank wars. Max's apology. Ian squints open his eyes to find his roommate curled around him, like a content kitten. He resists the urge to run his hand through Max's soft hair. Instead, he closes his eyes to enjoy the moment, evening his breathing. 

It seems the line between 'hate' and 'love' is pretty thin because he's cuddling the same douchebag who he was trying to choke only twenty four hours before.

"Shit," Max whispers, and his body goes rigid as he slowly pulls away. Ian pretends to be asleep because he doesn't want to start another war. The floor boards squeak. The door slams shut. 

Ian stretches and rubs away the sleep from his eyes. He quickly gets dressed and decides to do something nice for Max for a change. He rushes out to buy a box of donuts and hot chocolate.

"Honey, I'm home," Ian announces as he spreads the breakfast on Max's table. The boy's shaking out his wet hair. Ian doesn't miss the way Max's eyes light up at the sight of him with the food.

"Oh, shit. I could get used to this," Max says with a toothy grin as he pushes on his glasses. Water droplets drip down his bare shoulders. Ian eats up the sight of him, and it may be the first time that Max has openly smiled at him. The sight of Max in nothing but a towel, glistening with water, makes Ian's stomach twist in an uneasy way. Shit, no one should be allowed to be this pretty. It would make any straight guy question his sexuality. 

Ian takes a sip of his hot chocolate and averts his eyes: "Well, since we're sharing a marriage bed, I might as well perform my husband-ly duties."

"Oi! That makes me the wife," Max whines as he takes a big bite of a glazed donut. "How come I gotta be the wife?"

"Cause you'd look better in a dress," Ian says with a wink. Before, Max would have cursed him out, but, now, Max only smiles up at him, like Ian just said the funniest shit ever. Then he snapchats Ian with the caption 'we kissed and made up.' Oh yeah, he could get used to this new dynamic.

Joji immediately notices the shift when they show up at lunch with Max's arm draped over Ian's shoulder. Ian's glad Joji doesn't tease them because what would he say? _Hey, I let the bedbugs bite, and now it's alright?_ No, it might be better to keep their bed sharing situation to themselves. Neither of them bring it up.

The second night is less awkward than the first. Ian lounges on top of Max's covers reading Plato's Symposium while Max chooses to sit at his desk. But by the fifth night, they're both lying on Max's bed together. Sometimes, Ian will glance over at his abandoned bed and wonder when he should go about fixing it. _Later,_  Ian promises himself, but it sounds like an excuse.

It should be awkward to share a bed with Max, but it's simple. Max doesn't react any more when Ian's toes brush against his under the covers. They still sleep back to back, but most mornings he wakes up with Max curled up around him. During the day, they study together, play videogames together, and eat together. They're basically the kind of lovey-dovey co-dependent roommates that you only see in TV shows. Ian, who's in the habit of bringing them back breakfast, hates how cute they are.

By Sunday night, Ian wants his bed back. He shifts around on the mattress as he tugs at his boxers. His cock desperatly throbs against his boxers, and the sound of Max squirming inches from him isn't helping. Ian silently squeezes his hand around his growing problem just as Max's foot brushes past his. Oh. 

Ian twists around so he's facing Max and nudges him. Max turns around.

"Here’s too much information for you: I haven't gotten off since I slept with Annie on bug-gate," Ian confesses, voice low and scratchy. Max is silent for a moment, but Ian doesn't miss the slight hitch of his breathe.  

"So? What's stopping you from tugging one out, mate?"

_Uh, you?_

"I don't like to do it in the shower. Never could for some reason. Is it alright if I...?"

Max chokes: "Th-that's kinda weird, don't you think? Us being in the same bed, and you, uh, touching yourself."

"We're both straight, right?"

"...right. As far as I know.”

"And as you know, you don't want to fuck me, right?"

"Don’t flatter yourself, cunt.”

"Then there's nothing that weird about it. If you want, you can go to the lounge, and I'll just-"

"No, I have to also," Max whispers and makes a crude jerking motion with his hands. Ian grins; everything feels better with Max. Why shouldn't they share this?

They lie on their backs, and Ian doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he lets it out. Max does the same, and Ian's cock twitches. 

He cautiously lets his hand slip under the covers while he stares straight at the ceiling. Ian's always silent when he touches himself, but it shouldn't surprise him that Max can't hold back a whimper. The loud mouthed bastard is, of course, vocal in bed. Has Max always gotten off in the shower? Is that why Ian's never heard him before? 

"Did you start?" Ian asks before he can think better of it.

"Yeah," Max breathes, voice higher than usual, and Ian's stomach twists in arousal at the sound, as he squeezes his hand tightly down his bare cock. Out of the corner of his eyes, Ian watches as the covers shift. He closes his eyes and concentrates on stroking himself. Up. Down. Up-

Oh, Max's toes just brushed against his, and Ian's hips lurch up at the sudden contact. Max must feel him there, but he doesn't shift away from Ian. The reminder that they're touching themselves right next to each other makes Ian's hand speed up. He feels dizzy with desire. Oh shit, should he move his foot away?

His heart is beating hard in his chest, and Ian lets a hard breathe escape as he slides his fingers down himself. A bead of precum drips down his fist. Max's toe flexes against Ian's foot, and he makes this broken moaning noise.

"Y-you're so loud," Ian pants.

"You're the one trying to talk to me while I touch myself, faggot."

"Least I don't sound like a little girl."

Max's giggle turns into a moan, and Ian's not sure sure how to spin this as a joke. Maybe because it isn't. They're shamelessly getting off next to each other. Ian's not picturing Annie or any other hot girls. All he's concentrating on is Max's whimpering and the “accidental” brush of their bare feet against one another. It makes his own toes curl at the intimate contact.

He swipes another bubble of precum from the top of his cock and rubs it down the length. He sneaks a look at Max, and, fuck, it's a mistake. He can clearly his roommate's mouth parted and eyes squeezed shut. He looks like he's in pain, but then Ian lets his eyes move down his bare chest to the sheets.

"Stop l-looking at me," Max whimpers, but he dosen't sound mad. In fact, he arches his back, like he's putting on a show, and, fuck, if these aren't front row seats right here. For once, Ian keeps his mouth shut and silently fists himself.

He does look away, but the image of Max's scrunched up face is seared into the back of his eyelids. He can see the red of Max's cheeks and lips. So pretty. Then he listens as Max moans, voice breaking as he cums. It's too much for Ian to handle.

He comes without a sound, hips rolling to a finish. Ian's never cum so fast and hard, and he pants as the liquid drips down his fingertips.

"Sorry," Ian pants. "You don't sound like a little girl; you sound like a little bitch."

"Bet'chu got off to it," Max says with a yawn.

Ian's stomach twists because...maybe he did.

\----------

They don't talk about getting off together or their feet touching or anything, but they also.... they also don't stop. In fact, it's been a month since bug-gate, and Ian hasn't taken any more steps towards getting his bed fixed. Max never asks him when he's moving out. It's just a comfortable routine of cumming at night and then cuddling in the morning. 

Now, Ian could panic about this. He could panic that he used to fanatasize about girls. Now, all he needs is the quickening of Max's breath and the brush of their toes to get semi. He could panic that they've started to time themselves, so they finish together. He could panic that last night he imagined Max's fingers wrapping around him and came faster than usual.

He doesn't panic. Instead, Ian compartmentalizes. What happens at night stays at night and what happens during the day is what he concentrates on. 

"Halloween's this weekend" Ian says the next morning. He's still in bed, neglecting his daily duty of fetching breakfast, and Max has just returned from his shower. Max hops back up onto the bed with his DS.

"Yeah, Joji sent me an invite to this lame ass party. Wanna go?"

Ian, if he's being honest, hates parties. He'd rather spent Halloween night stretched out on the bed with Max, but he can't say that.

"Fuck yeah. Haven't gone out in a while," Ian says with yawn, and he slings a hand around Max's wet waist. He's so happy they stopped hating each other a long time ago. He's not sure what he'd do without his best friend. Max doesn't acknowledge the hand, but he doesn't pull away.

"What are we gonna do for our costumes? For the party," Max finally says after a comfortable lull of silence. Ian's thumb dips down to follow a wet droplet of water down the curve of Max's naked stomach. He feels Max's stomach muscles tighten under his touch. 

"Something that'll get us lots of girls, especially you. I don't think you've popped your college cherry yet," Ian teases. Max stiffens and then pushes Ian's hand away with a huffy "shut up, cunt."

"What?" Ian laughs as he pushes himself up onto his elbows. "You're not a virgin, are you?"

Max flushes furiously: "No, no. Of course I'm not. I just...I just don't like any girl."

"What's your type?"

"None of yer fucking business is what," Max snaps, and he leaves the bed to get dressed. Ian doesn't have his glasses on, but he can see the curve of Max's ass when he drops his the towel. His toes curl at the lovely image, and he wants to bend him over and- no, wait. What? Ian shakes his head. He needs to get laid. All of these mutual masturbation sessions haven't been good for him.

"Come on. Red hair? Blonde? Has a pulse? Doesn't have a pulse? I won't judge your tastes. Hell, maybe you're into that furry shit."

"Oh, fuck off, Ian," Max groans as he pulls on sweats. "I don't need you to come for me like this."

"Not what you said last night."

Max turns the nicest shade of red, and it's taboo to speak about what happens at night, sure. But Ian's never been good at keeping his mouth shut. It's why he was known as 'a fucking savage' in high school (and also a douchebag).

"Maybe I'll fuck a girl on Halloween then," Max says, as if playing with that idea. "Yeah, I'll find myself some thick bitch in a kitty costume. How's that for your furry theory?"

"Not if I find a girl first. Let's make a bet- whoever can get a girl to come with him first gets to have the bed for the night. Deal?"

“You really want go bring some girl here?”

“Yeah, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Max mutters as he looks up at Ian, and his eyes seem red, like he's been crying in the shower. Or maybe he just got shampoo in his eyes? Before Ian can ask him what’s up, Max's left for the lounge.

Ian's not sure why but the conversation causes tension. Max agrees to the bet, but when Ian slings his arm around Max, he can feel the other boy go rigid under his touch, if only for a second. At night, neither of them suggest getting off. Nor the next night. Or the one after that.

"Are my parents fighting?" Joji asks at lunch.

"No," Ian says at the same time Max says "yes."

They look at each other, and Ian's stomach twists at the accusation in Max's eyes. What did he do wrong? Ian would apologize if he knew what he did. He's too afraid to ask. Max spends most of the week on his DS, and Ian lives in the library. One night he even falls asleep on the couch.

By the time Saturday comes, they're both wound up tight from not cumming. Just the brush of Max's foot against his in the morning has Ian rock hard. He curses and hides his face under the covers. It's gonna be a long Halloween.

They didn't discuss which costumes they got (cause they took separate trips on the shuttle to Target) so Max is as surprised as Ian is when they change. They stare at each other and burst into laughter. Ian loves nothing more than when he can make Max double over, especially after all this weird tension.

"I can't believe you make such a pretty Princess Peach," Ian chuckles and leans in to tug on the dress. Max pushes his hands away, but he's smiling as Ian puts his Mario cap on top of his head.

"Yeah, well you make a shitty Mario. I swear to fucking god if Joji is Luigi...I'll fucking kill him."

"You realize we look like a couple, right?"

"We're so gay," Max agrees as he stops Ian from taking his Mario cap back, and then they're wrestling on the ground for it. Max's face is flushed, and it's the same pretty shade as when he's touching himself. The intrusive thought makes Ian's cock twitch in his costume. By the time he wrestles away his cap, they're panting hard.

"So gay," Ian agrees and leans in to peck Max on the cheek. He does it just to see Max squirm under him, not because he's been wanting to kiss the other boy for days.

They arrive at the Halloween party fashionably late. It's half past twelve, and the punch bowl has already been spiked. Ian fills up red cups for the two of them, and they try to find Joji in the crowd. As usual, he's nowhere to be found. So the two of them lean against the wall and whisper to each other which girl here they’d want to fuck. Max's lips brush against Ian's sensitive ears more than once. His toes curl.

"Her," Ian decides on a blonde in a black kitty costume.

"Bet'chu I can get a kiss from her before you do."

"Mh, I'd like to see you try, pretty boy," Ian taunts.

Then they're both making their way through the crowd to the blonde. She looks up at the two of them with a smirk from where she's laying on the couch. Ian notices the way her eyes flicker between the two of them, and he realizes how they must look, so he breaks the tension with-

"We're not a couple."

"No?" she laughs. "Coulda fooled me, boys. Name's Jess."

They sit down and introduce themselves. Max lazily drapes himself over Ian's shoulders so that he can talk her up. They're both tripping over each other, trying to gain her attention. Ian is aware of Max's hot breathe against his ear. The girl, who goes by Jess, isn't impressed by either of them.

Ian squeezes her knee and flirts, "What can I do to get a kiss?”

"Hm," Jess tilts her head.

“Anything at all.”

“Anything? Maybe you could...kiss each other?"

"Yeah, sure," Ian says at the same time Max goes "fuck, no."

They turn to stare at each other, and the contact is like an electric shock. Ian doesn't wait for consent as he leans in to cup Max's face with a gentle coo of "come here, princess." Max tries to move back on the couch, but Ian follows him, til he's between his roommate's legs. Jess is laughing at the show, and they've attracted the attention of several other girls, who shriek at the sight and snap pictures. They do have a bit of a reputation as memes on campus, afterall.

"Do it," Jess whispers in Ian's ear. He looks down at Max, who's flushed and squirming under his grip, but it's not enough to break free. He's cursing Ian out, but with Jess's approval, Ian smirks and leans in to softly press his lips against Max's. Ian can taste his cherry chapstick. Max's lips are sealed shut, and, after a second, Ian pulls away.

Max slaps Ian's face and wipes his mouth: "Can't believe you kissed me, you cunt."

“Aw. Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

Jess tugs Ian back and rewards him with a sloppy kiss. He wonders if she can taste Max on his lips. He pulls her onto his lap, giddy at earning her affection so quickly, and just when Ian's sure that he's won this game, Joji decides to cock block him-

"Yo! Whoever wants to play Spin the Bottle 'Truth or Dare Edition’ come here!"

Jess slides off his lap and leads him to the circle in the center of the living room. This is the problem with house parties, Ian thinks with an eyeroll. He reluctantly slides down next to her. Across from him, Max sits by a guy in a pink spandex suit. Wait, is that Joji? Fuck. The costume is so lame it's...brilliant.

"So, uh, spin the bottle, and you know how it fucking works," Joji announces as he places it in the center. They have a ratio of ten guys to five girls, so gay shit is bound to happen. Jess takes the bottle, and it lands on Max. Ian’s eyes lock with his roommates.

"Princess Peach, I dare you to go..." Jess trails off as she taps her chin. "Go have seven minutes in heaven with your friend, Mario."

Great. Ian hasn't apologized for that kiss yet, so he's walking into a closet with a (probably) angry Max. The crowd hoots and hollers when he opens up the door for Max. Those light eyes meet his, and Ian bites his lip. What is he thinking?

The door closes. Darkness. Silence. The roar of the party is muffled by the coats around them. Ian inhales and coughs as dust fills his mouth. There's a crack of light that falls directly onto Max's face.

"So..."

"So you wanna kiss again?" Max asks. "Just, like, for the hell of it."

"What? How much have you had to drink?"

"I just think it'll be funny cause everyone probably expects us not to, you know? And you always say it's funnier to do shit nobody expect you to do so...so what's more unexpected than if we actually spend seven minutes in heaven kissing?"

That sounds like messed up logic to Ian's upper head but not to his lower one. It twitches in agreement. His eyes adjust to the dark, and he can see the pretty cupid of Max's lips. God, his stomach twists. It would be nice to kiss him. He hasn't had enough to drink to justify whatever this is, but... _fuck it._

Ian leans in and presses Max against the door like he would a girl. When Ian brushes his finger over those lips, Max parts them for him. It's nothing like the whole 'ew, no' act that he did in front of the girls. How funny...that he's this different when it's just the two of them. Ian's stomach flutters at the pleasurable feeling of Max pressed down under him. Despite the fact Max is such a loud mouthed idiot, he also has a secret submissive side.

"This is pretty gay," Ian drawls as he leans in closer, so their chests are flush against one another. His knee is between Max's legs. Max only giggles against him, and the vibrations go straight to Ian's dick. This is nice. He wouldn't mind spending more than seven minutes with Max pinned under him.

Max's hot breath ghosts over his lips: "More gay than jerking off next to each other every night?"

"Not _that_ gay. Especially since you look like a girl right now in your pretty pink dress, Maxine."

It's funny that month ago Max would have punched him for that comment. Now, it makes Max giggle and lean up to close the space between their lips. Their mouths touch once more, and and Ian's whole body tingles in response to the sensation. He doesn't know what to do with his hands. If Max was actually a girl, he'd rest them on his ass or around his waist. Instead, he ends up cupping Max's face. As he deepens the kiss, Ian can taste the fruit punch and something distinctly Max. Ian's eyes flutter, and he wants to memorize this flavor. Oh fuck yeah, he can get used to this. And Max is still giggling against his lips, so it's alright. Whatever they're doing hasn't crossed any lines. Ian loves the idea that everyone will tease them for kissing -thinking they hadn't!- but they had. Hilarious.

Max pushes him back to catch his breath, and Ian catches a glimpse of how puffy his lips look. Ian's stomach twists like he's just seen a hot girl, but there's no one in this closet but Max.

"You look so wrecked..." Ian softly murmurs, almost to himself. "Maybe people will think we actually did kiss?"

"Good. Make Jess jealous," Max growls and tugs Ian back into a biting kiss. Ian's heart is pounding in his chest, and they're no longer laughing. Now, nothing but small, breathy noises escape from their lips. Ian's glad he's a couple centimeters taller than Max because it makes it easier to close his eyes and imagine he's kissing some girl. Except his hazy mind is quick to remind Ian that this is Max. These are Max's lips that he's kissing. Max's body that's pressed up under him. 

_Knock! Knock knock!_

"It's time to stop!" Joji says to a chorus of giggles. 

"The fuck...? How was that seven minutes?"

Ian looks down at Max, who only blinks up stupidly at him, and Ian realizes, stomach twisting, that he just kissed Max speechless. Huh. What an ego booster. He finishes with a final peck to Max's lips (just cause he can) and opens the door.

When they stumble into the dim light of the party, it's obvious what happened. Max looks fucked up. Ian has to adjust himself through his Mario costume. Someone whistles. How was this funny again?

"You lovebirds enjoy yourselves?" Joji snickers, and he's got his hand slung around Jess's waist.

"We weren't kissing," Ian blurts out like an idiot. Him and his big mouth.

Max, for once, doesn't have anything to say. He just touches his lips and nods, pupils still blown up. Oh god, everyone in the circle is laughing. Shit shit shit.

Everything Ian does is built on layers and layers of irony, but he can't even pretend there's anything ironic in how well fucked Max looks from kissing him. Ian's used to making the joke, not being the butt of it. Suddenly, his costume feels too tight, and he pushes his way to the bathroom where he splashes water onto his red face. What the fuck is going on with him? Did somebody spike that fruit punch with hard drugs?

He makes his way out to find Joji and Jess making out in the back. He sits next to Max on the couch. There are two empty red cups by Max's feet.

"Guess chicks really- really do dig dudes in pink spandex," Max hiccups, not meeting Ian's eyes.

Ian rests his face on his chin: "Yeah...whatever. This party's lame."

He lost the girl, and he might have lost Max. Halloween is the worst holiday.

"It'ssss shit," Max slurs and his knee purposefully bumps Ian's. Okay, maybe not all hope is lost.

"You wanna go home? Fuck girls," Ian says, voice low. He doesn't mean it to sound so sexual, but it does anyways. His body is here, but his mind is still back in that closet with Max, kissing him til it hurts.

"Fuck yeah," Max says and belches. "Wanna prank these bitches by holding hands?"

Max still isn't looking at him, but he's no longer looking like a well-fucked-girl either, so there's that. Ian wonders if Max is just using this whole Prank Thing to get closer to him. Logically, duh; however, Ian doesn't give a shit about logic anymore. Logic can go fuck herself with a horse cock. He just wants to hold Max's hand, so he says-

"Yeah, that's fucking hilarious."

It's not. Ian can see party goers giggling _at_ them when they pass by, not _with_ them. Max is too tipsy to tell the difference.

Well, the butterflies in Ian's stomach are certainly laughing at him as he slides his fingers through Max's and tugs him towards the door. They're both giddy from the drinks and the night and the kissing. Max trips over his dress, but Ian, arm muscles bulging, easily catches him.

"Careful, princess," he teases as they stumble down the sidewalk.

There's nobody here. Ian wishes there was, so he'd have some excuse to kiss Max. As a, uh, "joke." Of course.

By the time they make it back to the room, they still haven't let go of their hands.

"Sleep with me," Max whispers. "Don't want the bed bugs to bite."

"You don't bite?"

"Not much..."

Ian's mentally agreed at the 'sleep with me.' His cock twitches again in his costume, and it really should stop being so reactive to Max's touches. It's got everything to do with how Max looks with his red lips, which Ian has kissed earlier, and he hates that. He hates that he knows what they'll taste like if he just pushes Max down onto their bed. 

Max's bed is cramped, and Ian ends up spooning him, fingers lazily running through Max’s brown curls. His shampoo smells nice. Like mangos. Everything about Max is...so nice.

"I like sleeping with you," Ian confesses, and he'll blame it on the drink. Blame everything that's happened tonight on the drink, actually.

"Yeah?"

Ian nods into Max's neck but doesn't offer an explanation. Instead, he closes his eyes and enjoys the intimacy of holding Max's warm body to his chest. It shouldn't feel this good. It does though.

"You're a cunt for pulling that trick on me...back in the closet..." Max mumbles. "You kissed me like that on purpose, right? To make me hard?"

Ian sharply inhales, and his stomach twists at the admission. Max was that turned on just by kissing him? Ian slowly nods and keeps playing with Max's hair because he's allowed to.

"I did it to make Jess jealous. Show her what she was missing."

Silence.

"Oh," Max finally sighs. "That'll show that furry. Hah. Bet she regrets missing out."

Except Ian thinks Jess looked quite satisfied with Joji, and maybe -just maybe- Ian is satisfied to be here with Max. He starts to drift off to sleep, fingers still tangled in the curls of Max's hair, but then the bastard shifts against him, and- oh.

"Uh, Max. I gotta get up an’ pee."

"No, this is nice," Max sleepily grumbles. "Piss all over yourself."

Ian really needs to relieve this erection before Max finds out and makes fun of him. He tries to move away, but Max turns around and wraps his hands around Ian's neck. It would be sweet if he wasn't rock hard, and the zipper for the costume wasn't on the back. There's no way out- of either Max's grip or this costume.

"Gedoffme, cunt," Ian curses and writhes, and Max's grip tightens.

"Nah, I'm still Princess Peach, and yer still my plumber-bitch. I royally command yer ass to calm down."

As Max speaks, he climbs on top of Ian, so their chests are pressed together. He playfully pins down Ian's wrists, and the sight of Max seated on top of him- fuck, Ian helplessly ruts forward.

"Max- I'm hard, you actual cunt."

"So?" Max says cruelly and leans back, so his ass is seated right above it. "That'll go away, won't it?"

"Not if you keep- oh, if you keep doing..." Ian begins and stops, his eyes huge and glassy with shock. Max's soft hair shakes as he bounces up and down, like a hyperactive child.

"What am I doing, Ian? Looks like you like this though, don't you?"

Ian's whole face is flushed, and he can't believe what he says next. The "please" is soft and breaks in his throat. He's not really sure what he's begging for- for Max to stop or continue? But he knows that he's been waiting for this night for a long time. He knows that his words would make Max's eyes darken and his lips part. Slowly, Max rocks back again, and, oh fuck, the weight of his ass against Ian's erection is painful bliss. 

"M-max, what are we- what are we doing?" Ian whimpers, and wow, is that his voice? It sounds wrecked, which is sad considering Max hasn't even done much. He swallows hard as Max slowly thrusts back against him. The tight friction. Oh god, that friction.

"Helping you, so we can cuddle," Max says like it's a genius idea, which no- it's horrible. Horribly amazing. Max cuts off his protests by leaning in for a kiss. Ian's eyes roll back as Max clenches his thighs around him and continues rocking. This is nothing more than two horny boys rutting off against each other.

"Max- please-" Ian gasps, but he's unable to finish. Max has started to increase his pace. He can't form coherent thoughts anymore. Whatever they're doing, Ian wants more of it.

"Please what?" 

"That," Ian just mutters, awestruck. "fuck, Max, keep- keep doin' that. That's a good boy."

"Girl," Max corrects and stops, looking Ian straight in the eyes. Ian's back arches at the intensity of that gaze. Fuck, is this the same kid who punched him two months back for mistaking him for a girl? What's happening?

" _Shhh_ , okay. That's a good girl then. Yeah? Like when I call you my good girl, huh? Get off on being dressed like a princess, Max? Bet you don't want any of your viewers to know how much you like being dressed up like a little slut, do you?" Ian forms the words, and he's not sure if it's too dirty.

Max happily moans at the abusive language and continues rocking, slower than before. All Ian knows is that he loves the way that Max is holding his wrists, so he has no choice but to lie there and take it. He loves the illusion of helplessness- it feels like freedom. Ian doesn't have to overanalyze. He can close his eyes and just feel; the feel of Max's thick ass rubbing against his throbbing cock. The pink dress obscures it from view, but, when Ian squeezes his eyes shut, he can imagine what it looks like. Ian can imagine his bulge pressed up to Max's bubble butt.

"Heh. Your face always looks so funny when you wanna cum," Max taunts in his ear. "Your nose is all scrunched up like you need to sneeze...and your face is all red. Redder than Mario. Or like you gotta shit."

 _Oh god,_ Ian thinks. _Max is awful at dirty talk._

But it doesn't matter what Max is saying. What matters is the soft rasp of his voice as he gets Ian off. With every snap of Max's hips, Ian feels himself coming closer and closer to the edge. Ian's toes helplessly curl in his socks, and his fingers twitch in Max's grip. It's good, so good, but it's not enough.

Something animalistic flips in Ian's brain. He doesn't think or analyze it as he switches their position, so he's between Max's skirts. His vision blurs as he grabs Max's wrists and pins them down. All he can hear is panting in his ear. All he can see are curls. He breathes in Max's sweet scent, and rubs their bulges together. The rub of their clothed cocks rubbing together is too much.

"I'm gonna," Ian realizes with a broken laugh. "I'm really gonna cum in a fucking- in a M-mario suit."

Max wraps his legs around Ian's waist, urging him to thrust harder. So he does, arm muscles bulging as he holds himself up and presses down into Max.

"I'ma cumming," Max whispers in his best Mario impression, and it's horrible and ridiculous and very much Max. Ian's laugh turns into a groan as he thrusts down one more time. With one last grind, he cums. Ian feels tears in the corner of his eyes. He can't breathe. The costume is too tight, and the cum's spilling between his inner thighs.

He rolls off Max and covers his face with his hands. Shame colors his cheeks and squeezes his chest. He's afraid to look over at Max. He listens to the rustling of material and then a loud moan, which he's heard enough times to know that Max is also cumming. They're both spent, pathetically panting.

"Did we just...?" Ian trails off, and the words are too much. A sweat drop trickles down his neck. He feels sticky but not as gross as he should be feeling.

"Yeah," Max slurs and nudges him with his leg. "'S all right, right?"

 _Better than alright,_ Ian thinks. _Too good._

He can't even imagine how it'd feel if they could get out of these costumes.

"Was ok. Had hotter girls ride me.”

"I'm the best ass you've ever had," Max huffs and then he's cuddled back up to Ian. Ian hides his face into Max's warm hair, inhales, and slowly exhales. It's ok. They're ok. Nothing could ruin their friendship. Not even jacking off together. Not even kissing in a closet. Not even rutting against each other. Nothing.

"Nah, you're my best friend, fuckface," Ian softly whispers. Max makes this little contented noise that Ian wishes he could record and listen to over and over again.

"Gay."

"Says the dude in a dress."

"Says the dude who came 'cause of the dude in the dress," Max giggles and then kisses him again. Ian's lips tingle from the peck; his whole body is alive and happy from all this affection. Have they crossed a line tonight? Max snuggles closer into him, and his breathing starts to even out. Maybe.

\-------

Somethings changed between them.

Ian wakes up with a warm body draped over him, and it's sad he already knows who it is. This has to stop happening. He keeps his eyes closed, but he can feel Max's gaze on him as he stirs in Ian's arms. He waits for Max to move away, but he doesn't. Instead, he nuzzles his soft head into the crook of Ian's shoulder. Max's hair tickles Ian's bare skin, and he has to bit his lip to keep himself from laughing.

When Ian squints his eyes open, he's greeted with the mouth watering sight of Max draped over him. His eyes are closed, but it's clear that he's awake. Ian closes his eyes again because -okay, this sounds gay- he wants to savor the moment. During the full light of day, Max is abrasive and angry. Now, he's turned into a little puppy. Ian wants to pet his hair like he did last night...

What happened last night? Hazy memories of pressing his lips to Max's makes his cock stir in his cum stained costume. Then pushing Max into the wall...soft lips...breathy moans...grinding... Shit. Now he's fully erect. It doesn't help that Max's long lashes are brushing against his collarbone. Ian clears his throat and peaks down.

"Pst, Max. Wake up," Ian mutters and shakes him a little.

Max swats him away. Ian frees himself from Max's grip and changes out of his dirty costume into pajamas.

He looks up to find green eyes watching him.

Max finally says, "I told Hila about your bed, you know. When I was mad at you. She promised to come fix it up, so you can sleep there."

Ian's stomach sinks, but he forces himself to smile.

"Ah, great. Now I don't have to spoon with your ass anymore."

"Great," Max repeats.

"Really great."

They stare at each other, and Ian wants to break down and admit that he doesn't want to leave Max's bed. That whatever happened between them last night he wants to keep happening. Instead, he heads down to the laundry room and finds Hila there. By the afternoon, the extermination plan is in full effect.

"Guess you'll be sleeping in your own bed soon," Hila tells him happily.

Ian stares down at the 'Bug-Be-Gone' bottle and nods.

"Are you happy?"

"Of course."

"Ian, you don't sound happy."

Maybe he breaks down crying for the first time in years. Maybe. Hila hugs him, and Ian buries his stupid face into her shoulder. It only lasts a minute before he's pulling away and wiping his cheeks clean. What's wrong with him?

"It's just so complicated," Ian chokes out.

"Shhh, if it should be with you two, it'll be."

He's not sure what that means, but he feels better. When he comes back to the room, he slumps onto Max's bed and pulls the other boy into a tight hug. He doesn't say anything, but Ian hopes Max understands. 

"Handsy all of a sudden, huh?"

"Shuddup. Let's just...go play Mario Carts." 

\------

They sleep in separate beds, and it feels wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.

\------

So Ian hasn't really had a chance to have a good gay panic, but now might be that time. When he pushes their door open after class, he finds that Max has pushed their beds together, and -oh god- it makes Ian's heart feel full to know they'll be close again. It feels so right, so why does his stomach twist like he's doing something wrong when he smiles?

"What do you think?" Max asks, a load of laundry in his hands, and he's wearing Ian's pink hoodie. It's big on him. The sight of Max in Ian's clothing, doing their laundry, is too much. 

"Now you can't do the bed bug prank anymore."

"But it doesn't mean I still can't prank you. Watch yer ass."

"Gonna fuck me? Is that the final prank? Anal sex? Think of all the youtube views that would get," Ian jokes as he flops onto his -no, _their_ \- bed. He looks up to see that Max is flushed as he folds their clothes. Interesting.

"Wouldn't be the worst thing. I haven't gotten laid in a while. It's a bitch of a sex drought," Max says all matter-of-fact. Ian wants to mention Halloween night, but that's not a good idea.

"Well...don't let me stop you. If there's some cute girl you wanna bring over, I'll sexile myself to the library."

"No, no girls," Max snaps and then changes the subject as he jumps on their now conjoined beds. "Wanna watch porn or whatever?"

Ian doesn't let the shock show on his face: "Fuck, yeah. Nothing gay about two dudes jacking off to porn together."

"We've jacked off together before."

"Well, yeah, duh. But not to porn. Not during the day. Isn't that a bit...much?"

Max shrugs as he takes out his laptop and settles onto the bed. His hair looks even softer than usual. His lips are parted. Ian, despite his protests, settles down next to him, knocking their knees together.

"Lesbian porn," Ian decides. "That's the best kind."

"No way. Straight."

"Cause there's a dick? " Ian teases and bumps Max's shoulder. Max flushes, eyes straight ahead on the screen. The air has shifted. Ian lets his eyes move down Max, and his chest tightens as he sees how good he looks in Ian's clothes.

Max doesn't say anything to that...weird. He just shrugs as he opens up his 'Bookmarks' and clicks on 'Good 1 2 watch.' Ian wonders if he picked it out with the intention of showing it to Ian. Well, as long as it's not Princess Peach and Mario porn, Ian will be fine.

"Let's just watch," Max mutters as he moves the computer down, so he can push his hands under his sweat pants. Ian does the same, and he rests his chin on Max's shoulder (to see!). This close, he can smell Max's mango shampoo. It reminds him of Halloween.

"Ohhh, pizza man and busty blonde," Ian mocks. "A classic. But what's this? He seems to have brought her some sausage pizza. Ohhh. Plot twist. Busty bimbo has forgotten her wallet. How ever will she pay him? Maybe she has nature's wallet between her skirt..."

" _Shuddup,"_ Max groans, and Ian can see from this angle that Max has his hand wrapped around himself. If only he'd move down his sweatpants. Ian has failed to mention that porn does nothing for him, but the sight of Max enjoying himself is making his cheeks flush. What a nice view. He wonders if Max likes Ian's voice against his ear as much as Ian loves Max's cute little giggle in response to his teasing. His cock throbs, so he fondles himself through the cotton of his boxers.

Onscreen, the blonde’s on her knees, sucking cock like it's her job (which it is), but Ian’s staring at Max's lips.  

"Would you like to be that pizza man, Max?" Ian continues, lowering his voice. "Oh, no, I think maybe you'd like to be the girl here, wouldn't you? Bet you'd love that- being forced down to your knees. Yeah, you'd love to be that slutty housewife. Down on your knees like a good girl."

Max's breathe audibly hitches, and he strokes down harder, hips jerking up to meet his hand. Ian glances on screen to watch the busty blonde hallow her cheeks. Max has prettier eyes.

"Yeah? Like the thought of being in nothing but an apron and panties? Having your mouth fucked open?"

"Ian," Max moans and wriggles against him, but it sounds less like a warning and more like a plea for more abuse. Ian smirks. There's nothing that turns him on quite like teasing Max. Ian slips his hand under his boxers and squeezes his hand around his cock, trying to relieve some of the pressure that's built up. The girl's moaning as the man pulls back her hair.

He leans in, so his lips are pressed right up to Max's ear: "I'd choke you harder than that."

Max makes a strangled noise- somewhere between a whimper and a moan. His hand's speeding up, and Ian knows it's because of him. Why have they never done this before? Max is so cute to rile up. Neither of them are really concentrating on the porn. Not when Ian slowly, but surely, pulls himself out of his khaki's. Max's eyes dart down to look at Ian openly touching himself.

"Think you could fit your lips around me?" Ian asks, and he's finally crossed the delicate line they've been edging towards. Max pushes the laptop closed, and -fuck- looks straight at Ian.

"You want me to?"

There's a hand skimming down Ian's stomach to the bare skin right above his cock. It jumps in his hand as he meets Max's intense gaze. He'd be lying if he said anything but-

"Hell, yeah."

And just like that Max moves down on him. Ian can't form words to even describe those lips. Those fucking blowjob lips feel like sin around him. They're so wet and soft, kissing the tip of his cock, and they're not just any lips. No, these are Max's lips, and the thought of Max is what has Ian's eyes rolling up like a moron. He's helpless to do anything but gasp at the sweet suction. Max sucks cock like he's done it for years. He takes him down, all the way to the base, and then his eyes flicker up to look at him. Ian almost cums right there and then.

He wraps his hands in Max's soft hair and pulls at it hard because he knows Max likes it rough. And isn't it fucked up that he already knows? That he knows Max needs to be held down on him and choked?

"Ma-max, your fucking mouth. God, better lips than any girl," Ian moans, and Max breathes sharply through his nose at 'girl.' Right. Ian pets his hair, trying to keep himself from spilling too quickly, but he's not going to last.

"Such a good girl for me. Wish I could record you and show everybody," he hears himself say as he continues to pet Max's hair, and the blissed out look from the closet is back. Max's eyes go hazy with some sort of indescribable pleasure as Ian pets him and calls him his _good girl._

Max pulls back, a bead of saliva connecting from his red lips to the tip of cock, and looks up at him, eyes distant and hazy. Ian’s thighs clench together. He pulls at Max's hair as he splatters all over those red lips and red cheeks. He cums with a gut wrenching moan all over that pretty face. Max looks even prettier covered in Ian's cum.

"You want me to take care of you?" Ian says softly, but when Max sits up, his sweatpants are already stained wet. Max flushes and tugs Ian's pink sweatshirt down.

"Don't laugh, cunt," Max warns, but it's hard to take him seriously when his lips are that color from sucking Ian's cock. 

"Dude, I look like I'm fucking laughing? You're- wow. Just wow." Ian voice breaks because there's no words to describe what Max looks like in Ian's sweatshirt, covered in his cum. He looks like he belongs to me, some dark voice in Ian's head whisphers. 

He's just cum a minute ago, but his spent cock twitches in his boxers as he presses Max back into the bed. Now there's no Jess. No closets. No porn. There's nothing between them but their ragged breath. When Ian cup Max's wet face, it's painfully tender. Max averts his eyes but parts his lips, and Ian kisses him like he's never kissed any girl. He kisses Max like he means it, and there's nothing but the soft smack of lips for a full minute. Max moans under him, and Ian can feel the other boy hardening under him. 

"Yeah? Like that?" Ian says as he pulls back, and Max has no smart remark. He just looks up at Ian with bright, pleading eyes. In that moment Ian's sure he wants to be deep inside Max. He wants to fuck him into their conjoined beds. He wants Max's pretty eyes to look up at Ian when he's fucking him open. Maybe pull on that soft hair. 

"I'm gonna fuck you one day," he says, just to see how Max would react to the thought. Max's pupils dilate darker and he sighs "fuck yeah." Unfortunatly, Ian has no lube and no motivation to figure out the logistics of gay sex right now. 

So instead he starts to lazily rock against Max, pressing their semi hard bulges together, and explore Max's body. 

Ian knows his hands are cold, and Max's back arches when his fingers brush against his nipples. He rubs them with his thumb and maybe lets a little "good girl" slip out. Max's hips involuntarily jerk up, hard. Ian loves that he's going to have the rest of the semester to figure Max out. To fuck him in every way that he possibly can. Right now, all Ian wants to do is lazily rut against him like this. Kiss him like he owns him. 

Max's hands are now in Ian's hair, and Ian never even realized that he liked that until Max did it to him. He usually hated when girls ruffled it. Now, he's addicted to the way that Max pulls at the short strands.

Ian pulls back: "Careful. You want me to start receding early?"

"Already are," Max giggles and then demands. "Stop teasing me or I'll pull it all out." 

"Bossy."

But Ian's more than happy to oblige. He moves down until his mouth is right next to the wet spot in Max's sweatpants. This is a nice view. Well Max has done it to him, so it's only fair. He kisses Max through the fabric and just looks up at him with a smirk. Waits. Max squirms under his gaze and bites his well-fucked mouth. He tugs at Ian's hair. 

"Fuck. Come on. Do it." 

"Uh uh, what's the magic word?" 

Silence. 

"Please," Max whispers.

Fuck, power shoots through him at the simple word. Ian's never realized how sweet and desperate Max can get. And Ian hates Max's camera but what he wouldn't do to have it recording Max's face while Ian does this. 

Ian's never done this before. He didn't ask Max if he had, but the other boy had been a natural. Ian runs an experimental finger up the length, and he looks up to meet Max's eyes. The boy shudders as he circles his thumb around the bubbling tip. 

Fuck, the pretty sounds he can pull out of Max without even putting his mouth on him is just...just incredible.

Ian would be lying if he said he's ever wanted to suck a dick before. But this isn't just A Dick. It's Max's. This is the dick right above the thickess of Max's thighs. Right below the soft swell of his little belly. So Ian starts there- by kissing Max all around the area. Sucking on his inner thighs. Licking up into the crevice of his belly button. Max laughs and kinda whimpers, eager for Ian to stop playing with him. All the while he strokes Max's cock with his hand and listens to what pretty sounds he can illict. This is just a whole different way to fuck around with Max. 

"F-fuck, Ian," Max rasps. "God, I-"

"You want something? Gonna use your words?"

"Want you to, you know. Just-" Max, foul mouthed Max, can't even mouth it. The sight of Ian stroking his cock is breaking him down like this. Would he do if Ian just...just put his lips around the tip? 

"Oh, fuck!" Max screams, loud enough that all of the thirteenth floor must have heard it. Loud enough that it makes goosebumps rise on the back of Ian's neck. Loud enough that he ruts into their shared bed, desperate for more. Ian chuckles, not moving, but the vibrations just drive Max crazy.

"Course you would be- would be a cock tease," Max pants. 

Then he puts his hand back in Ian's hair and sharply tugs him down, and, yeah, his stomach twists at that. Max's cock feels nice and heavy against his tongue. Something he'd never thought he'd do. But who knows if they'd ever do this again? Is it just a one time thing? So Ian's gotta take it all in. Memorize every inch of Max's skin. Memorize the redness of his face and the weight of his cock in his mouth. He hallows his lips like the girl in the video did, and Max fucking moans, even louder than before. Ian knew he would be loud in bed, but this is ridiclous. 

He pulls back with a pop: "Jesus, Max. You need a fucking gag or something? You're screaming like a little bitch. Hila's gonna think I'm torturing you."

"You are! Just- just-" Max fumbles for words and childishly tugs at Ian's hair. "Just do it right, yeah?"

But Ian never does as he's told. He smirks and rubs his spit down Max's length. He's never felt so powerful than he does now with Max between his fingertips. He, literally, has Max in the center of his palm. Desperate. 

Max is babbling at the top of his lungs: "Please, Ian. Oh god, I'll clean up the room or I'll- I'll suck your cock whenever you want." 

"Whenever?" Ian says with a dirty smirk. "So I call you up in the middle of a test? You'd sneak out to the bathroom, drop to your knees, and suck me off? Or maybe I'm just working on my computer? Would you drop to your knees under my desk?"

And Ian believes Max when he nods and fuck if that doesn't feel like a punch of arousal straight to his gut. The thought of owning Max's mouth makes Ian's water. He takes Max in deeper this time and even bobs his head. When he looks up through his lashes, Max's face is blissed out. 

"Ian- I'm gonna- fuck, Ian."

Ian pulls back, and with that Max is coming all over his face. Some of it splatters on his shirt. Ugh. Ian wipes it off, pleased with himself for making Max come so quickly, and takes a kiss for a reward. 

"It's fucking filthy that we're kissing each other with spunk on our mouths," Ian realizes as he pulls back. Max just licks his lips. He's still rock hard, so he drapes himself in Max's lap. There's no sense of urgency to it though and that's the truth. With some girl, he'd just fuck her and be done with it. With Max? With Max he just wants to get off with him. On him. Inside him. 

Max has just come, and Ian thinks he likes him best like this: "You're a lot quieter after, huh? I was worried I'd have to duct tape your mouth shut. Such a moany bitch." 

As Ian talks, he ruts up into Max's soft stomach. He pushes his shirt up, so the gentle slope of Max's belly is exposed, and he takes out his bare cock from his own sweats. 

"This is weird," Max snorts as he realizes what Ian is doing, but he doesn't push him away. His whole body is slack from orgasm, so Ian is free to do with him whatever he wants. He leans down to steal a kiss as he ruts upward into the softness that is Max.

"I'd do it against your ass...but this is just as nice."

Their sweaty foreheads are pressed together, and it's quiet and intimate. Ian wishes he had lube, so he could push himself inside Max, but this will do until next time. The idea of a next time with Max has a jolt of pleasure race up his spine. His toes curl. Unlike Max's screams, Ian cums with a soft grunt, splattering onto Max's naked skin.  

They cuddle together afterwards, and they're silent for a couple moments. 

"Was that weird?"

"The part where you tried to fuck my stomach? Yeah, real weird. Even for you. The rest of it...that was nice," Max says and leans in as if to kiss him, and Ian meets him halfway. 

"Weirder than the night we were Mario and Princess Peach?"

"Oh, fuck. You got some weird kinks, don't you?"

Ian snorts: "Oh, I have weird kinks? You're the one who wets your panties every time I call you a girl. And don't get me started on how LOUD you are. Think I'm gonna have to invest in a gag for next time," Ian says without processing it.

"Next time?"

"Yeah, next time," Ian confirms. "Less you wanna go find some girls to pull your hair and fuck your tight, little Australian ass." 

Max says firmly, "This is our fucking bed. No girls allowed." 

Ian leans in to peck him on the lips in agreement: "No girls allowed...except for you."

Max looks up at him, pupils dilating once more in lust, and breathes against Ian's lips: "Except for me, cunt."

Ian's glad they don't hate each other anymore. Joji was right; it was just sexual tension. 


	2. Room....mate?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: spanking and just general angsty bullshit. I've been going back and forth about posting this, but I hope some people enjoy!

Ian's key-card is blown out of his hands, and he curses as he has to search through the snow for it. If Ian believed in anything as retarded as 'signs,' this was a bad one. Good thing he still has all of his brain cells intact.

Inside the elevator, Ian keeps his teeth from chattering long enough to make small talk with Hila. She warns him that some rooms on the top floors still haven’t gotten heating. When she asks how Max has been doing, Ian shrugs. They haven't spoken much aside from a couple texts and snapchats. Ian's been busy with an engineering internship, and Max? Well, he probably had Youtube videos to make or some shit.

It's colder inside their room than outside. Emptier.

He turns on the heater, nothing happens. Ian keeps his coat on, kicks the heater, and hopes for the best.

Ian creeps over to Max's side. The empty spot where Max's bed used to be (before he connected it with Ian's) is lined with mousetraps and action figures. How is that not against regulation? Ian nudges the empty box from when Max had smuggled a cat into their room last semester. Heh, Ethan had a fit over that. Ian goes over to Max's desk and smiles at the Polaroids of them. There's one at the center where Ian's kissing Max's cheek.

Ian starts to unpack some of the groceries he brought into their fridge. Juice boxes. Pop tarts. Apples. Frozen chicken nuggets. They're basically grown up toddlers.

Then he crosses back over into his side to connect his laptop to the Wifi.

 _Our room's colder than a coffin_ , Ian types out as he jumps up onto his bed. Max's flight should have arrived by now if he'd calculated it correctly. Yep, _Read 7:45._ Ian waits for a response, holding his breath like some schoolgirl with a crush. He exhales when he sees that Max is typing.

_Better warm up by burning all ur ugly shirts -M_

_Nah, think I'll have to start with your pokemon card collection -I_

_Then move onto Yu-Gi-Oh -I_

_Throw in a couple rat traps and action figures for good measure -I_

_Don't. You. Fucking. Dare. -M_

_I'll chop yer dick off -M_

Ian laughs and thinks it might be their best interaction in weeks. He snuggles under the cover as their room turns yellow under the setting sun. The heating still hasn't kicked in.

_Better come quick then, so we can share body warmth -I_

_Missed that warm Aussie ass_ , Ian types and presses send before he can regret it. He hates sending cute-sy stuff over text. He's had nightmares where his phone suddenly connects with his mom's, and she sees everything he's typing. Ian would rather die. Luckily, Max doesn't take it in a sentimental direction.

_You haven’t been acting like it, cunt. -M_

_If I find out you've been cuddling up to any othr cute asses during yer break ill cut off yer cock off, vore it, barf it up n then burn it -M_

_Do cousins count? -I_

_i swear to god you better be joking -M_

_Incest is best -I_

_Burn -M_

_im 10 minutes away but i wanna make a couple stops so -M_

_add another 10 -M_

_Can I start without you? -I_

_No. That's our bed. I don't need yer cousinfuckingass touching yerself there without me. If you even stroke your cock -M_

_I'll choke ya -M_

_Maybe I’d like that -I_

This is the closest they've come to dirty talk. Well, all their talk is dirty, but this one's sexual. Ian isn't one to get excited just by a text, but it's also...Max. He's been bored over the break, touching himself in the darkness of his own room, with no one to help but his own right hand. It's not the same without Max's needy little whimpers. Without the brush of his toes. Without the smack of their lips.

_fuck. now u made me hard, cunt -M_

_Have a good semester! Don't let any girls distract you from your studies lol. Love you lots and lots! -MOM_

Ian's stomach twists with something that's a cross between arousal and shame as the two texts come in at once. He shuts off his phone and throws it on his desk. He misses. Fuck. Ian squints in the dark, and he bets the screen's shattered. He gets up and picks it up, and yep, the glass is destroyed. Huh, bad sign number two. Now all he needs is for a black cat to cross his path.

Ian stares out the window into the shining snow below. Behind the frozen yard the parking lot gleams darkly. He shivers and hugs himself. Guess the heating is broken. His phone is broken. Why isn't anything working?

He puts his phone back onto his desk and then takes his glasses off. He changes out of his street clothes into sweats. He's still gotta buy books and print his schedule and- Ian will deal with all this shit in the morning.

For now, he's just gonna crawl under the covers and wait for Max to come warm him up. No room can be cold with-

 _Click. Click. Click._ That's Max struggling with the lock. _Click. Click. Click._

 _BANG_.

"OH FUCK! Yer right it's cold as balls. What do we not pay enuff money to this goddamned capitalistic hell hole to get uz some FUCKING heating in here? I'm- I'm gonna find that fat cunt Ethan and beat him up bright and early," Max says with a belch as he kicks off his shoes and shucks his coat onto the floor.

Ian can tell by the way Max is swaying that he's tipsy. God, it's a Thursday night. What the fuck is Max doing getting wasted on a Thursday? Ian's New Years resolution was to give up weekday drinking, and Max agreed to try, so- so what the fuck?

Ian sits up, groans, and holds his hand out: "Come here. Give me the drink, you drunk fuck.”

"Wha'? No, I paid good fucking money for this-"

"Max."

"No."

“ _Max._ ”

“Fuck. No,” Max says and takes another deep drink. He’s way past tipsy. How has he managed to fuck himself up in the span of thirty minutes? Pure fucking talent.

Ian pinches the brim of his nose as he realizes he’s dealing with a petulant man-child. Ian's head throbs, and he can feel the headache coming on. This isn't his idea of a nice Thursday night. This is...? He’s not sure what the fuck this is.

"Max, we agreed not to do this anymore. This shit was first semester. So I'm going to count to five, and you're going to-"

"NO!"

Ian jumps up and wrestles the drink out of the Aussie's hand. It's completely dark in their room, so he can't see how flushed Max's face is. But he can feel the heat radiating off him. Warm son of a bitch. Max curses and grabs at Ian's hair. Ian knees him in the crotch, causing Max to drop and groan. He takes the drink and firmly hides it in the fridge, behind the juice boxes.

"Look, I know you got yourself too drunk to tell, but you're being really loud. The last thing I need is for us to get busted for alcohol on the first night. Can't you- are you okay?"

Max is whimpering and curled up in a ball. Shit maybe Ian kneed him a little harder than necessary? He squats by his roommate's side and gently touches his shoulder-

" _FUCK_!" Ian screams as Max takes a swing at his face.

Ian’s knocked back, and his head spins. Ian curses and puts pressure on his pounding eye. Did...did Max just punch him?

Max stands and spits at his feet.

"That's what you get for stealing my beer, cunt."

Ian flinches as Max stomps over to the fridge, throws the juice boxes all over the floor, grabs his drink, and slams the door behind him.

Shit.

What the fuck is going on with Max?

\-----------------

Ian wakes up to a throbbing pain in his eye, which is so swollen that he can't open it up all the way. It's red hot. The rest of him, not covered by the blankets, is shivering cold.

He sits up in the empty room.

It looks like Max didn't come back home last night after- oh god, Ian looks down at the juice box covered floor. Some of them are busted open and bleed onto the ground. It's Friday, but classes don't start til Monday, so he's got all day to clean up this mess and find the bloody mess that made it.

Max. There's something up with Max. Ian's not an idiot, and he knows what a tantrum looks like. He's babysat enough neighbors to know that this is what someone looks like when they're acting out. Ian's got enough emotional intelligence to deduce that much, but why? The why isn't clear to him.

Ian sighs as he gets up and goes to the bathroom to pee.

"Shit, dude," Ethan whistles as he passes by Ian. "Who gave you that shiner?"

"A baby."

"They let those into college?" Ethan jokes lightly, even though he knows who Ian is talking about.

"Yep. There's a place for everyone these days," Ian mutters.

"I was gonna tell you that the heating won't be switched on until next week, but, uh, looks like you got bigger problems to worry about. Look, if you wanna...still wanna change rooms-"

"It's under control," Ian lies, even though he thinks that Max might be out of his control. Sure, he hadn't texted with Max much over Winter Break, but he didn't think the Aussie was having a full mental breakdown. Maybe he should have skyped more than just that one time where they'd both gotten off on cam.

Ian splashes some water onto his face and studies the damage. Yikes. It looks like he got into a bar fight.

Ian doesn't want to be a self-centered asshole, but he's also certain that Max’s tantrum has something to do with him. Ian tries to figure out what while he wipes the floor clean. Did he say something? _What_? It’s impossible to try and understand Max, so, instead, Ian wonders where he’s gone. Maybe to Joji’s. His phone is pretty fucked, but Ian’s still able to call Max. When it goes straight to voicemail, he curses. Hopeless. With a sigh, Ian puts on his coat and heads downstairs for some breakfast.

He finds Max passed out on the couch in the main lobby. His hair is soft and fluffy around his flushed face. There's a line of drool coming from his red lips. Ian would be lying to himself if the sight didn't make his chest tighten. He would be lying if he said he still didn't want to kiss the idiot. Ian goes to shake Max awake, stops, and then walks out the door.

The cold air is a relief to his eye. It's like nature’s ice pack. He kicks at the grey, slushy snow. He looks up at the grey, slushy sky. He feels kinda like a grey slush himself.

Ian buys two coffees, one bagel, and one pink donut at the Student Center. The donut girl raises an eyebrow at Ian's face but doesn't say anything. When he looks inside the brown bag, he discovers she slipped him an extra pink donut.

He trudges back to the building and this time he does shake Max awake. He's rougher than he needs to be.

"F-fuck," Max groans and rolls over. "Wha'? Wha' time is it?"

"Time to get the fuck up," Ian snaps as he sips his coffee.

Max yawns, rubs at his eyes, and pulls his knees up to his chest. He makes a happy little noise when he discovers that Ian's brought him donuts. Ian's in half a mind to slap it out of Max's hands and demand an apology, but- but he's not that pissed, not yet anyways.

"Got something to say?"

"Ah, sorry about the, uh, you know," Max vaguely gestures at Ian's face as he stuffs his mouth with the donut. Ian turns to look at him, and Max uneasily avoids his eyes.

"What's that?"

"Sorry ‘bout yer eye, mate."

 _Mate_?

The word is cold and distant. Ian looks down at where the Dunkin Donut bag sits between them. He's silent as he takes out his buttered bagel and takes a bite. What should he say? _Oh yeah, it's cool. Nothing like the time honored tradition of getting assaulted by your roommate every time you see him?_

"What's up?" Ian asks instead and lowers his voice. If there's something going on with Max, he really should be nicer.

"Nothing. I was just being a drunken dickhead. Fuck, don't tell Ethan, alright? He wanted to kick me out as soon as Hila told him about the bed bugs."

"I think he already knows," Ian says with a grimace. "Didn't have any makeup to hide all the domestic abuse that's going on."

"Fuck. I'm sorry," Max says and looks up at Ian with big eyes. "I really am. I'd understand if you didn't want to room with me anymore. You’re the good guy always getting me food and cleaning up my mess, and I’ve just been fucking everything up.”

"Woah, fuck, calm down. No one's changing roommates. I'm just trying to figure out why you threw a massive tantrum last night."

"Wasn't a tantrum. It was the drink."

"That's how young adults nowadays throw their tantrums, with the aid of alcohol.”

"Sorry for drinking," Max repeats as he licks the icing off his fingers. Max isn’t denying it but he also wants to just shrug off all the blame, and Ian's patience is wearing thin. His face is fucked up. His phone is fucked up. His heart's gonna be the same way if Max keeps this -whatever this is- up.

"If you're sorry, you won't do it anymore, right? This drinking and punching me was just a one time thing?"

"Yeah," Max says and meets Ian's eyes. "Just on the weekend from now on. Well, not the punching shit. Just the drinking shit.”

"Okay...just the weekends."

"Great, so now that this interrogation is over, come 'ere," Max demands and grabs Ian's wrist. He roughly pulls him into the elevator. Max waits until the door creaks closed and then crowds up into Ian's space. Ian's still annoyed, but, fuck, Max's soft lips are a nice distraction. He tastes like sweet frosting and bitter coffee. Mhhhm. That's pretty good. And his body is soft and warm. Ian feels himself quickly warming up under Max's insistent kisses. He rests his hand against the small of Max's back, right above his plush ass.

"Betchu missed that, huh?” Max whispers with a smirk as he grinds up into Ian's space.

"Fuck, yeah," Ian admits with a groan as inches his hand down to squeeze Max's ass. His thumb dips rests  on the naked skin of Max's back, where his sweater rides up. Like everything about Max, it's hot. This boy is a fever, and Ian's already sick of how much he wants him.

As the elevator door creaks open on the thirteenth, they pull apart. Ethan walks in and gives Max a sharp look and then a soft questioning look at Ian. He just shrugs as Max pulls him out. God is he whipped. All it takes is for Max to bat his eyelashes and give him a couple kisses, and the whole night is forgotten.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Ian groans against Max’s lips as he pushes him up against the doorway.

Max is hot and heavy under Ian as they kiss. When he tugs at Ian's sweatpants, it reminds him of a petulant child tugging at their parents, asking for something. Something more. But Ian's face is too flushed for any cold, rational though. He pulls out the key and fumbles with the lock. _Click_ . Kiss. _Click click._ Kiss.

Finally they push through and collapse onto the floor. Ian knows he's going to hate himself for giving into Max, but the Aussie is insatiable. He's so needy, like a kicked puppy, that all Ian can do is pet his soft hair.

"I- I missed you, did'ja know that?" Max gasps as he shifts to straddle Ian. Their door is still open, but Ian's kind of past the point of caring. Max's soft ass is now lined up with his hardening cock, and oh, it's nice. Too nice.

"Missed you too, you actual demon."

"Sorry for raising hell," Max says and leans down to kiss Ian's puffy eye. Ian smiles up at the sweet affection.

"I forgive you...so long as you promise never do it again."

"Pinky promise," Max says and brushes his lip against Ian's neck. The flutter of Max's lashes send shivers down Ian's spine. He arches up into the sweet touch. Max sucks down onto the sensitive skin of his neck.

"I'm okay with you marking me up this way," Ian teases. He lets his fingers card through Max's hair and softly squeezes the fluffy strands.

Max pops off Ian's neck. His lips are pinker than before, and a strand of saliva connects them to Ian's neck. He looks like sex, and Ian's cock throbs at the tempting sight. He wants to push his cock into the hot suction of that mouth. That’s a guaranteed way to shut Max up.

"We should close the door," Ian realizes, but he doesn't push Max away. Instead he just lies there, trapped by Max's kisses. Under Max's warm affection, it feels like the heater's finally kicked in. The hot bastard.

Max leans down, so his lips touch Ian's ear: "I want you to fuck me with the door open, so everyone can watch. Give Ethan a show."

Oh wow, his cock throbs at that thought of rolling Max over and taking him right there. On the floor. Where anyone could see them. He can almost hear the hard slap of their flash. Their grunts. The animalistic image is tempting but, Ian doesn't want to hurt Max. He knows from the girls he’s done anal with that it hurts like a bitch, and Ian wants it to be good for him.

"You kinky son of a bitch," Ian snorts and gently pushes Max off.

Max pouts as Ian closes the door: "What? Scared of what people will say?"

"Dude. Exhibitionism is hot and all, but I'm pretty sure we might both get kicked out for that. And we're already the toeing the line after last night. I'm sure Ethan must have seen you downstairs and put two and two together. I know us fucking is our worst kept secret, but it’s still, y’know, a fucking secret.”

Max's face has gone dark, and Ian's sure this isn’t about the door anymore. As Max gets on the bed and rolls over to face the wall, Ian rolls his eyes. Oh, hell nah. Ian's not about to get blue balled after _all_ that. He crawls up onto the bed to spoon Max, so his hard cock is once more pressed against that soft ass. Ian wraps his hands around the boy's waist.

"Tell me what's wrong, you big fucking baby."

"Nothing," Max snaps and wriggles in Ian's grip. Max struggling to get out of Ian's arms only turns him on more, unfortunately. Ian tightens his arms around Max's slight belly and hooks his sharp chin onto Max's shoulder.

He speaks firmly like he's addressing a five year old: "I won't let go until you tell me."

"No."

More squirming. Ian patiently holds him.

"You know as much as holding you down is a big turn on these mood changes are pretty concerning. Is it that time of month, baby girl?”

"Fuck. Off," Max says but betrays himself with a stifled giggle. Ian kisses Max's flushed cheek. He knows from experience that Max won't be able to keep silent for long. He's not the brooding type.

"Tell me or I'll fuck it outta ya," Ian threatens as he slowly grinds his hips up into Max's ass. The steady friction is good. So good. Max sighs softly, and Ian can tell that he's enjoying this, even if refuses to acknowledge it.

"No," Max says, but his voice is softer than before when Ian thrusts up hard into his ass. It's nice to hold the volatile boy down for a minute. When it's just the two of them like this, Ian's sure everything will be okay. He presses another cool kiss to Max's hot cheek, and Max tilts his head a little to meet Ian for a real kiss. He's still rocking up into Max's sweatpants clad ass.

Ian pulls down Max's sweatpants to reveal his soft, bare ass. The cheeks tense up a little under Ian's cold touch but then relax when Ian kisses Max’s neck.

"Do I gotta spank it outta ya?" Ian growls, and Max makes a strangled noise that Ian's not sure how to decipher. Max playing like he doesn't want it only turns him on more. Ian’s cock is wet and throbbing in his boxers, and he squeezes himself through the fabric. He's had to wait too long.

"Stop," Max says even as he kicks off his sweatpants in a way that screams 'continue.' This is typical Max. Says one thing and means the other. Pushes you away with one hand and pulls you in with the other.

" _Stop_?" Ian repeats as he kneads Max's bare ass between his fingertips. It's so soft and nice and perfect and- yeah. Yeah, he kinda wants to take Max over his knee for all this bad behavior and give him a nice little spanking to put him in his place. Ian gives Max’s ass a firm love tap instead and watches it ripple temptingly under his fingertips. Max's voice is muffled by the pillow, but Ian knows it’s a moan.

It's dubious consent at best, but Ian's past the point of caring. He's got a black eye and the world's whiniest roommate to deal with it. He's tired of taking care of Max. Now he needs to take of himself.

Ian pulls his cock out of undies. His balls retreat at the sudden cold air, and Ian has to stroke himself to warm up again. It pathetically throbs and dribbles cum under his fingertips. All he wants to do is spread Max's cheeks and push inside. Instead, Ian rubs himself against the soft curve of Max. God, the other boy's so warm. Dangerously warm. Ian bets Max would be even hotter inside, not that he’ll allow himself to go that far in this game. He just holds Max’s hips and thrusts up into the soft cleft of his ass. He watches the length of his cock sliding between Max’s crack and wishes that he was allowed to push inside.

Max must be thinking the same thing because he’s increased his wriggling to rub his ass back against Ian.

“No, Ian. Stop,” Max whines, and Ian’s cock hardens even as he forces himself to actually stop.

"Fuck, okay. I know you're into rape play, but I don't want to play if you're _actually_ mad. If you wanna consent roll over.”

Max sighs but relents as he turns around in Ian's grip. Now they're face to face, so Ian can press their foreheads and cocks together.

"That's it, baby."

"Baby girl," Max corrects, and his voice is ten times quieter than it was when he burst through the door last night. Quieter than it was downstairs. It's barely a whisper. His eyes are closed, and he buries his face down closer into the crook of Ian's shoulder.

The sight of Max curled up so sweetly into him after all that protesting makes his stomach twist with arousal and affection. Their cocks are lined up, and Ian gently takes them both in his fist. He squeezes up and then down. Up and down. A bead of precum leaks down Max, and he swipes it up.

"That's it," Ian says and kisses the top of Max's head. "That's it, baby girl. Nice and wet for me, aren’t you? Yeah, all nice and wet for me, princess."

Max bucks up into his hand at the dirty talk. Ian's learned that there's nothing Max gets off on more than pet names. His whole body is loose. There's none of the aggression from last night. Max is soft and sweet besides him...well, excluding the hard swell of his cock.

"Like when you take care of me, Ian," Max gasps and bucks in Ian’s grip.

"I know. I know. That's all you need, isn’t it? Someone to hold you and say that it’s ok. Someone to know that you’re safe and good. So good for me, baby.”

"Girl," Max repeats like it's important information. "Call me your girlfriend. Ah, Ian. Please."

That's new. _Well, whatever gets him off_ , Ian thinks as he kisses the top of Max's head again. Now he's speeding up the pace of his wrist, and every slide of his cock against Max's makes him burn. Ian's toes curl under him at the sinful friction. He's babbling into Max's curls.

"That's it, Max. You're mine. My- my fucking girlfriend, you like that, huh? Like when I call you that. Baby. Princess. Girlfriend. God, I don't what's wrong with you, but I fucking love you anyways. God, that's it. So good for me."

Max has been reduced to loud moans that increase in pitch as Ian increases his pace. Max's fingers dig into Ian's back as he gets closer and closer. He's also saying something into Ian's neck, but Ian can't pay attention. All he knows is the sweet rhythm of their cocks dragging against one another. Max holder him tighter and tighter and-

"F-fuck, Max," Ian moans as he cums with one last hard squeeze of their cocks. He's squirting all over his fist and the bedsheets and Max's sweater. Then seconds later, Max is cumming all over their bed sheets.

They're panting and covered in cum. It's messy and nice.

Ian presses one more soft kiss to Max's forehead: "Okay, but forreal tell me why you're acting like the biggest bitch."

Max yawns and nuzzles into Ian's neck like a kitten. It's endearing as fuck. Now that they've both cum, Max is ready to talk.

"You'll think I’m being stupid."

Honestly, Ian does think Max is being stupid right now, but if last semester has taught him anything, it's patience. Ian's willing to just hold this stupid loud mouthed boy for as long as it takes.

"Lemme guess? I didn't call you enough?"

"No...well, kinda. I dunno. It's just that you..." Max trails off as he pulls off his sweater. Despite the cold, they've both worked up sweat. Ian strips down to his white undershirt. Now they’re both pretty much naked. If they're gonna be a vulnerable with each other, now is the time. Max snuggles back into Ian's arms, and Ian holds him because...because Max is an insufferable idiot, sure, but he's also Ian's insufferable idiot.

"What is it?" Ian asks, preparing for the worst. Did Ian drunk dial him something horrible? Did he see some old facebook post? Did one of Ian’s exes contact him?

"You didn't invite me over for Christmas."

Uhhhhh, ok. Not what he expected.

Ian laughs: “Is that it? Next year you can come over if you want-"

"No," Max groans. "No, that's not what I meant!”

“What did you mean? You can come over to my place anytime. We could go this weekend if you want. I don’t live that far away, dude.”

“Dude? Really? Calling me _dude_ when we’re covered in each other's cum?”

“You called me _mate_ earlier,” Ian snaps, suddenly defensive. “Right?”

Max blinks, and rolls away, so Ian can stare at his naked back and that cute, little ass he still hasn't fucked. Might never get to fuck at this rate.

"Right, you're always fucking right, Ian. _Happy_? You're right that I shouldn't have gotten drunk. Shouldn't have punched you. Shouldn't have said anything about Christmas, so just forget it. Nothing's wrong."

He wants to spank Max so badly right now, not even in a kinky way. He just wants to take this man-child over his knee and make him fucking behave. 

"Then what the fuck is going on with you, Max? You don’t usually hold in shit. It’s out of character.”

"Nothing! Fuck off already.”

"Then- then stop acting like something's wrong," Ian groans and gets up to shower. He can’t deal with this hot and cold headache anymore. What happened to them? Last semester it seemed like they’d worked out the perfect schedule, and now the two of them are out of sync. 

Ian kicks the heater, where his cracked phone rests. 

He spares one more look at Max. That's one more thing that Ian's gotta fix, but he doesn't know how yet.

\-----------------

It gets worse.

Max is warm and loud during the day like his usual self. A little too loud, though. He laughs too hard at jokes and screams too hard in the cafeteria. But it’s at night that everything is fucked up.

Ian tries to hold Max close, and he gets a hard kick. It’s not like the cute squirming from yesterday. This is a firm NO. Ian’s hurt because Max won’t tell him what’s wrong.

“Do you,” Ian sighs after the third night. “Do you wanna move the beds apart?”

“Do you?"

“No! Fuck no, Max; you know I love sharing a bed with you, what kind of bullshit question is that? God, the whole weepy girl act was cute the first time but now it’s making me feel like some sort of pervert. Every time I touch you I got slapped or kicked or punched or- what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Ian screams into his pillow and then kicks Max’s foot. The other boy kicks back, and then they’re wrestling on the bed covers. Ian pins Max down under him and squeezes his wrists.

“Tell me. Now. Or I’ll go and knock on Ethan’s door and file a complaint against you.”

“Blackmail? That’s new, _dude_.”

“You know what else will be new? The red prints I leave on that annoying Aussie ass, _mate_.”

“It’s nothing. It’s stupid,” Max grumbles like he did three days ago.

"Tell me," Ian sighs, lowering his voice so it's barely more than a whisper. He leans in to kiss Max, and, for the first time since their fight, he's accepted. _Oh, thank fuck._

“But basically if I...if I was some girl you'd met, we'd be dating right now. You know what I mean?"

"No, I have no fucking idea what you're talking about actually."

"Then listen! Listen, if I was a girl, you'd have invited me over to meet your parents over Christmas. You know, all proper like. And you'd introduce me to your grandparents. Show me your childhood bedroom. You know...couple-y shit. But instead I just went back to Australia, and I bet'chu didn't tell your mom about me, huh?"

"She knows about you. Kinda hard to forget the fucker that punched your son,” Ian snaps. “Twice now. Probably again if this keeps up.”

"No but... _us!_  You didn't tell her about us."

Ian freezes under the accusations, and his blood runs cold. He lets go of Max and sits up. He runs his hands through his hair. It’s dark and cold, and his skin is covered with goose bumps.

"Fuck. All this fucking shit is because you want me to actually treat you like my girlfriend? You know I just called you that cause it turns you on, right? It's a kink. We're exclusive, but we're not actually boyfriend and girlfriend. Or boyfriend and boyfriend. Or whatever. You know that."

Max stares up at the ceiling: "I know that."

"That's how we agreed to have it. Right?"

"Right."

"I'm not even gay, Max. I told you that I just made an exception for you. I told you that, right?"

"Right."

"And you're not out to your friends or your fans or your family, right? You didn’t tweet I was your boyfriend or introduce me as anything but your friends in your vlogs, right? You didn't invite me to meet _your_ mother over Christmas Break, right?" Ian's whisper shouting at this point, and he's shaking. His blood is boiling. His eye is throbbing. All the tension from last night is back, and the air between them has frozen over.

“Right, _dude._  Like I said...stupid.”

“Yeah, you were right, _mate_. It is stupid,” Ian snaps with finality then lies back down. He goes to sleep with his back to Max, and nothing is right.

Everything’s _wrongwrongwrong_.

\-------------

Ian should have foreseen the prank war restarting. Should have known it by the tightness of Max’s lips, and the sharpness of his eyes. He should have measured it by the length of their growing silences. 

The mouse traps don’t sting as much as the realization that they’ve come full circle. Nothing’s changed between now and September except now Ian knows that Max is capable of being loving and reasonable and, yes, even sweet, but, instead, Max is choosing to be cruel.

Ian curses at the hidden camera.

“Really? I thought we were done with this bullshit,” Ian seethes as he storms into the bathroom, rips back the shower curtain, and throws the trap at Max. It clacks onto the wet tiles.

Max covers his dick with his hand and attempts to close the curtain: “Ever heard of fucking privacy?”

“Privacy?! I’m your-” Ian snaps as he grabs the curtain and then stops and flushes under Max’s hard gaze. Fuck, there’s not really a good word for it. Lover? Roommate with benefits?

“Friend,” Ian settles on. “I'm your fucking friend. And we promised to stop this childish shit last semester. Just like how you promised to stop drinking AND stop being a little bitch." 

“Well, _friend._ How about you let me shower in peace, and I don’t report you to Ethan for sexual harassment. How’s that?”

Ian’s too mad to even form coherent words. Last semester he would have had the perfect quip. Now, he takes petty revenge by smashing Max’s three hundred dollar camera. Ha, good luck getting any more footage from that. 

He stares at their beds, but he’s too proud to move them apart and admit that they’ve fucked it all up. That they’ve fallen back into old habits. That their tender love has switched back into bitter hate. No, Ian won't move their beds apart. 

Instead, he grabs a juice box, his still cracked phone, and heads to the library. The cold wind fails to cool his hot face.

‘Let the games begin, Ian’ Max snaps along with an image of his broken camera. Fuck. He’s fallen straight into Max’s trap by breaking the camera, and Ian has now guaranteed that the prank war is FOR SURE back on.

‘You wanna monetize my misery? Fuck off,’ Ian tweets. It's a subtweet, but, judging by his cancerous mentions, he should have just @'ed Max. 

He considered making his twitter private once Max blew up on Youtube, but he loves to troll Max’s young fans. Honestly, if Max keeps up this rate of growth, Ian’s not even sure if he’ll finish Uni. Maybe he’ll just go back to Australia and forget all about the asshole who didn’t invite him over for Christmas. Maybe that’s all Ian ever was- a distraction.

Wow, that’s depressing. Ian finds himself a quiet place in the library where he can lose himself to his work and forget all the drama for a minute. But he can’t help but check his phone, and he’s surprised to see he’s gotten a couple thousand retweets. Fuck, Max is really on the level of fame where Keemstar will report on this bullshit drama. It’s Jake Paul levels of retardation.

But it also has him thinking...if Max can do this Youtube shit, why can’t he? Doesn’t seem that hard. Just talk to a camera.

_Maybe I’ll start a Youtube channel -I_

_Thoughts? -I_

_Go ahead. Leech off my fame. Anything else you want?  Want to bend me over and FUCK me while you’re at it? -M_

_That sounds nice. Think your attitude might improve after a good, hard fucking -I_

_And I'd make sure you enjoyed it -I_

_Fuck off -M_

_Ur not going to be literally or metaphorically fucking my ass anytime soon -M_

_Aw, but I think you’d love that, Maxine -I_

_All the other girls love it when I give it to them nice and good on their backs -I_

_I hate you -M_

_I know -I_

_But I’m still making a Youtube Channel -I_

\-------------  
  
His first video -thanks to Max's halo of fame- gets 100K in the first hour. Oh, and the clickbait title 'I GET MY ROOM MATE BACK GOOD' with an image of Max helped. Everybody loves a prank war, especially one that's built on sexual tension and repressed anger. Plus, Max screaming as he pulls the worms out of his pasta is a really gif-able moment. 

Max comments: "Bugs in my food? Wow. Original. What is this channel-- BFvsGF?" 

Ian replies: "If you want to be my girlfriend, Max, there's nicer ways to ask."

Everyone in the comments section under them is speculating about the nature of their relationship. DanPhilledIn wants to know 'why their beds are pushed together.' Ian listlessly scrolls through the comments during lecture, and he's seen more 'gaaaaayyyy' than he can count. Oh well, adsense is gonna be good. 

When Ian comes back to their room that night, he notices that there's an inch of space between their beds, not far enough that Max is admitting defeat but far enough that Ian will see it. He stares at the crack and swallows hard. How can an inch feel like a kife wedged deep into him? 

But Ian is Ian, so he doesn't let himself cry. Instead, he lies down onto the cracked bed and draws up ideas for merchandise. Internet fame is a goddamned fleeting thing.

"You're really trying to capatalize off this?" Max snips as he stumbles into the room in nothing but boxers and a pink sweatshirt. He crushes an empty can of beer on the desk and belches. It's a Monday; why is he tipsy? Maybe it's the drink that made him forget that pink sweatshirt was originally Ian's. His chest squeezes when he sees how cute Max looks in it, and there's not much that he wouldn't do to push Max into the bed and fuck him. 

"Yeah, you're a real cash cow, princess." 

Max groggily follows Ian's hungry gaze down to his sweatshirt. As soon as he realizes it's Ian's, he quickly rips it off: "Fucccck off. And don't call me that." 

"Why not?"

"Because. You lost that right." 

That's even worse. Now, Ian's got the perfect view of Max's white torso and pink nipples. His hair is fluffy and soft and Ian wants to pet him. 

Max -the fucking cock tease- stares up at him with those angry eyes and just...cocks his head. Ian hates that he's so weak. That he's putty under that gaze. 

"Well...what can I do to win you back?" Ian asks, voice low and gravely, and he's aware of what a fucking hypocrite he is, cringing at the 'gay' comments and now ready to suck Max's dick for forgiveness. Anything to stop the space between them from growing. 

Max bits his lip, and it occurs to Ian that Max has missed Ian just as much as he's been missing him. Or maybe the drinks have just lowered his inhibitions.

Either way Max crawls up onto the bed and Ian tugs him forward onto his lap. Max doesn't protest much. In fact, he seems quite smug to be up on Ian's lap, at the center of Ian's universe. There's nothing but boxers separating his cock from Max's ass, and Ian eagerly wiggles under Max as he hardens. It's pathetic, but he also hasn't gotten laid in months. The best that he's had is his right hand.

"I've missed you," Ian confesses, earnest. 

"Metoooo," Max mumbles and nuzzles into Ian's neck. He then bits the skin a little too hard. Ian hisses in pain and ruts up into Max's ass. It's the strangest mix of seduction and longing and drunken fumbling that it makes him feel even more lost. He's stroking Max like he's afraid that he's going to leave him any moment, and Ian hates how vulnerable and sad this all is. Fuck, even their Peach and Mario rutting was less embarrassing than this. 

Max laps at the bite, and his rough tongue is bitter-sweet against the burning skin. The saliva dripping down Ian's neck makes him shiver. 

"Are we going to be okay, Max?"

"I still hate you if that's what you're asking," Max groans, but the way he says _hate_ is closer to _love._ Ian lets his hands fall down to Max's ass and squeezes him through his boxers. God, how is it possible to want someone this much? Ian feels his stomach twisting with the desperation of his arousal. Max's lips look so soft and fuckable. Ian'd sell his soul to Satan just to have them wrapped around him.  

"Why? Because of Christmas?" 

"Because of so much more than that, you idiot." 

Ian cups Max's face and rubs his cheeks. His red lips are puffy and parted. He's a mess, and Ian wants to make him feel a little better. Or (more likely) Ian's just feeling horny and selfish.

He leans in for a kiss, and- and then Max burps. 

_Ugh._

Ian pushes him away: "You promised not to drink on a school night." 

"You wanna fuck or nah?" 

"Not when you're like this."

Max flops back onto the bed and looks up at Ian with searching eyes. Searching for what? _What_ , Ian wants to scream. _What do you want from me?_

It's an hour later as Ian sits at the desk, tapping away, that he realizes the heating has finally switched on. The heat is on, but their room -with it's cracked bed- is as cold as ever. 

He sighs and posts the link for the merch.

Ian will turn this throbbing pain into cold hard cash.

\-------------

The pranks escalate from traps and bugs into something...awful. It's only a matter of time before one of them take it too far. Max toed the edge with the 'I Want A New Roommate' prank, and Ian HAD almost gone to Ethan to ask for a new roommate after that. 

As their followings and views grow, the crack between their bed gets wider and wider. Ian starts to sleep over at Joji's. He lives at the library. It's hard to make new content though with the space between them, and it's only a matter of time before they push too hard. 

They cross that fragile line on a frigid February. Valentine's day to be precise. 

Ian's just had a very sad wank in Joji's shower this morning and a hard ass test. He feels like shit as he stumbles out of the elevator, and he hasn't posted a video in two weeks. 

When he puts his hand on the doorknob, he hears the giggling. _The fuck...?_

Ian slams open the door to find an almost naked Max and a squirming brunette. Ian's blood freezes as his face burns. His breath catches in his throat, and he doesn't even look around for a hidden camera because this? This is too far.

"Get. Off," Ian says, voice low and dangerous. It's not a question. The startled girl flushes and scrambles off of Max. Her heavy breasts bounce in her bra as Ian catches her by the arm at the same time as Max, and now they're locked in an angry tug-a-war. 

"No, don't go, Jules. Ian, can you give us ten minutes?" Max begs and tugs her back towards him. There's a challenge in his eyes and Ian hates that he's rising to this obvious bait. 

Something primal in him is burning, and, before he can stop himself, he tugs the girl harder towards him and orders her, "Get out. Now." 

There are no room for arguments.

The girl looks between them and laughs.

"Uh, yeah, fuck, Max, this _is_ pretty funny -like you said it'd be- but more in a sad way. I feel like a room mate breaker, and that's not cool, so....honestly? Sort out your shit. Oh, and Ian fix your content it's cancer."

She breaks herself away from their grips, gathers up her clothes and boots, and leaves with a slam of the door. 

Ian barely registers that she's gone. He's standing a foot away from Max and fucking shooting daggers into him. The air is charged, and Ian's scared of what he's capable of. He's never been this fucking angry in his whole goddamned life. The crack in their bed is now a whole foot, and Ian feels his blood melt and then boil and then freeze all in the second it takes for him to look into Max's shining eyes. He closes the gap between them and possessively rests his hands on Max's shoulder.

Max just looks up at Ian with flushed cheeks and mused hair. He looks like the boy in the princess Peach dress that just wanted to be kissed and loved and-

 _I love you_ , Ian internally screams. _I love you more than anyone I've ever been with and why can't that be enough?_

Instead, he says, "I'm going to give you a minute to apologize." 

Max flushes darker under his accusing gaze and tries to shrug Ian's hand off his shoulder.

"Apologize for what, _mate_?"

"Dumb isn't a good look on you, Max. Our room smells like fucking oranges, and- and I hate citrus. You pushed our beds the fuck apart, and now you're looking at me like you want me to- to- to- fuck do I know what you want? For me to fuck you up? _Fuck_ you? Is that what you want? Because I can't take these fucking mind games anymore! Tell me -if you haven't killed off all those brain cells yet- what's crawled up your ass and died or I swear to god I'll- I'll take you over my fucking knee and spank it out of you."

Silence.

"Do you want me to fucking spank you? Is that why you still haven't said 'sorry?' I swear to god- say sorry, and I'll stop this. Say sorry, and I'll leave move your bed all the way back, and this can all be over."

Ian's fingernails must be leaving marks by now in Max's sot skin. All the blood has gone to Ian's face, so his fingers are pale. He can feel the vein in his neck pulsing against his skin. He can feel the growing pain pounding against his heart, and Ian's never felt so feral in his life. 

" _Max_ ," Ian repeats like a final warning.

Max tilts his head like he's carefully calculating something in his mind, like he's measuring the tightness of Ian's hand on his shoulder. Ian can almost hear the gears in his brain slowly turning, but he can't predict what's coming. 

"It was just a prank, bro," Max deadpans.

Ian snaps. 

He's not even sure how he ends up with Max over his knee. He just blinks, and he's jerking Max's undies down. Max puts up a laughable fight to squirm out of Ian's grip-- so bad that Ian's sure he wasn't even trying to escape. If Ian was in a rational head space, he'd have the time to deduce that Max wanted to be caught, but, right now, he doesn't give much of a shit what Max wants. Ian's tired of playing good cop.

"Fuck- you're- you're really gonna?" Max laughs. "I was tryna call your bluff- I didn't think you'd really-"

"Those are a lot of words that don't sound like sorry," Ian cuts him off.

Then he raises his hand and-

 _SMACK_.

Max squeaks and then covers his mouth, but it's too late to try and muffle the embarrassing noise.

Ian tilts his head and mocks him, "That hurt, baby? Just say 'sorry,' and I'll stop."

"F-f-for fuck's sake," Max sputters. "You're not really gonna- my camera's still on, Ian!"

 _SMACK_.

Ian doesn't hold back with this one, and, if the tears welling up in Max's eyes are anything to go by, it smarts like a little bitch. 

"I should have done this the first night you came in drunk. No, I should have done it the morning after. Should have pulled you down and made you behave. Now, I have to make up for lost time."

Max's been subdued in a shocked silence. His glossy eyes cast downwards as he struggled to keep the tears from spilling down his red face. Max's ass is the same burning shade of red, and this might be the most fucked up Valentine's Day that Ian's ever given anyone.

"Ready to apologize yet?"

Silence.

"Hm, that's what I thought. Guess you're gonna have a lot of raw footage to edit out," Ian says -voice deceivingly calm- as he raises his hand. He waits, giving Max the opportunity to say something and stop him, but the Australian stays silent. The sound of Ian's hand hitting Max's exposed ass has to be the most satisfying thing he's ever heard. _6....7...8..._ God, Ian has to bite his lap as he rhythmically slaps his hand down to keep himself from moaning. _13...14...15..._ He didn't intend this to be sexual, but he can't miss how perfect Max looks positioned on his lap like this...how perfectly submissive he's become.

Tears roll down Max's cheeks, but when he looks up at Ian, all the anger is gone. His eyes have gone soft and glossy, like a kicked puppy, who wants to please his master. The strange shiver of power is, _fuck_. Ian's cock twitches as he pets Max's ass like he owns it, and- okay, maybe he does kind of own it. Maybe he's owned it this whole time, and now he's taking what's been his this whole time.

" _Shhh_ ," Ian soothes even though Max is perfectly quiet. "You've been waiting for this, huh? Been trying for so long to push me to this point?" 

He rubs his fingers up and down the cleft of Max's ass, and, uh, yeah, that's defiantly Max rocking against him. At first Ian wonders if he's trying to escape before he realizes....the bastard's getting off on this. Max's dick is squeezed between the crack of Ian's knee. 

Ian chuckles darkly: "Fuck no, Max. You don't get to enjoy your fucking punishment. Not when you still haven't apologized."

When he lifts up his hand again, he spanks him harder than he did before.

_..20....21...22...._

By the time he reaches thirty, Max has come to the end of his tolerance. He makes a loud gasp of air like he's been holding his breath and sputters out- "S-sorry! I'm sorry, Ian. I- I shouldn't have brought that girl here and kissed her and moved our bed's apart and..."

"And?"

Ian raises his hand up, and Max sobs, "And I'm sorry that I've been so cold to you. I just wanted you to show that you gave a fuck about me...'cause you're always so composed, and- and you're right. I was trying to push you."

Ian's silent, calm once more, as he soothingly glides his thumb up and down Max's back. When his finger grazes over Max's ass, he earns a shiver. It's strange because he can still feel Max's hard cock between his knees. A dark side of him wants to keep Max like this to really show him who's in charge, but, after a pause, Ian lets out a deep breath and shakes his head. No, he doesn't want to break him, not now anyways.

"I accept your apology," Ian states, the words strangely formal in his mouth as he loosens his grip on Max.

The spanked boy sits up and, to Ian's surprise, straddles Ian's lap and buries his wet face into Ian's neck. Oh, wow. This is fucking precious. Max is soft and docile as he curls up into Ian, nuzzling his neck. Ian doesn't know what to do with his hands, but he settles them around Max's back, soothing the injured boy. 

"I love you, you fucking idiot," Ian mumbles. "I hope you know that." 

Max freezes at the confession and then his body becomes lax, as if all the stress has gone away. 

"I- I love you- you, you actual fucking dick," Max says but then breaks off into a sob.  

"Wow, uh, so I would have spanked you sooner if I'd know that you'd become like this. Fuck, this is- okay, _shhhh_ , let it out, baby. That's it. Just let all of that out," Ian sputters as Max sobs into his shoulder. He's never seen the other boy so.... _vulnerable_. It makes his heart twist as he strokes Max and plants kisses in the softness of his hair. _Mine_ , a primitive part of Ian growls as he caresses Max's back and lets his fingers linger over Max's spanked ass. Possessive is an understatement.

They stay curled up like for a minute, and Ian hates that his cock is hardening from having this much power over the other boy. He's fully erect -not really from the spanking- but the idea that Max is his and his alone. That he could tell Max to roll over, and he would. It almost makes the agonizing month of sexual drought worth it to have Max so wet and pliant in his arms. 

"I want to fuck you," Ian confesses, and he's been holding that in for too long.

Max makes a happy little noise into his neck and then mumbles something Ian can't decipher.

"What was that?"

"I said- 'fooking finally,'" Max repeats as he pulls back and then leans for a kiss. It's the wettest kiss that Ian's ever had but also the most anticipated. He's been dreaming about kissing Max every night and now, finally, he has the boy right where he wants him. The rigid anticipation melts away into relief as they kiss like their life depends on it. Ian doesn't even want to draw back for oxygen as he sinks his fingers into the curls of Max's hair.

"So I love you....I want to fuck you....what else haven't I said that I need to?"

"That you're sorry," Max sniffs. "You cocksucker."

"Ok- I'm sorry for being a dick, how's that?"

Max kisses him: "And for shutting me down when I tried to talk to you. And for breaking my camera. And -let's not forget- for not inviting me over for Christmas."

"I'm sorry," Ian says in earnest because he really is sorry for hurting Max, and he feels so much better when he's said it. 

"Kay. Cool. Can we get to the ass fucking now? All these emotions are gay as hell."

"I'm not sure how emotions are gayer than gay sex but...I'm sorry I didn't say that I loved you sooner," Ian confesses as he plants soft kisses to the curls of Max's hair. "Cause internet fame is shit if it means that you hate me. God, I don't even give a fuck anymore, you know? I'll tweet out that I'm gay tomorrow cause none of it means anything if you hate me."

"Forgiven," Max laughs. "But you're only really forgiven if you fuck me so good I forget that I've been celibate for almost my whole second semester."

That's perfectly fine with Ian. 

He knows it's a bad idea to try and lube an ass that's still so rawed, but Ian's also tired of waiting, and, judging by Max's whining, so is his roommate. There's no way that they could have done this all cute and sweet. Nah, that's not their style. It has to be a messy mix of lube and salivia that Ian rubs agaibst the rim of Max's ass. He's never fingered Max before, and he holds his breath as he slides his slick finger between Max's red cheeks.

Max moans: "Fook yeah. You know how long I've bin waiting for this?"

Ian's cock, which was already semi from spanking Max, hardens as he allows his finger to push up inside Max. 

"You're so tight," Ian says because what else do you say? Honestly, he's just amazed that this is all happening now. Just an hour ago, Max hated his guts, and, now, Ian's got his slicked finger curving up inside of him. 

"Not really," Max whines into Ian's neck. "I already prepeared myself last night, ya kno." 

"You- what?" Ian laughs.

"I thought...I hoped you'd get so mad that you'd just fuck me," Max admits, and, wow, Ian's cock throbs as he imagines Max fingering himself open in the hopes that Ian would fuck him. 

"Je-jesus, Max." 

Ian slides a second finger in and earns a whimper from Max. The boy arches his back, and his erect cock is trapped between both of their stomachs. Max looks like sin with his ass still red from spanking and Ian's fingers buried inside him. The sight makes arousal painfully tighten in Ian's stomach; he rocks forward a little, desperate to relieve some of the tension. The sooner he can spread Max open the sooner he can slide inside him, fuck him open. 

"I've wanted you for so long," Max pants into Ian's ear, voice deep with desire. "Wanted you to just bend me over the desk and fuck me, show me that you needed me as much as I needed you. But you were acting like a fookin' pussy, weren't you?"

"Says the bitch who kicked me when I tried to touch you," Ian growls as he shoves in the third finger, and if Max is trying to rile him up, it's working. He knows exactly how to push Ian just right. Ian's fingers are deep inside Max's wetness, and Ian feels so connected to him. 

Max is vibrating with need, and he's riding Ian's fingers like a professional whore. His hair bounces and toes curl as Ian curves his fingers and rubs That Spot. 

And then Ian is slipping out his fingers and pushing Max onto the bed. It feels less like they're kissing and more like they're releasing all that pent up frustration. Ian's undoing his pants and sweater, kicking it all to the floor, all while trying to still touch the already naked Max. 

"You better know I love you to let'chu stick yer bloody cock in me," Max grumbles as he rests his head on the pillow. His back is arched, and his red cheeks are spread.

Ian bites his lip as he strokes the lube down his dripping cock. God, he's so desperate to just be inside Max, to shut him up by fucking him, until there's no more snark left, until there's nothing but begging and the slap of skin against skin. 

"Ready?" He asks, tenderly rubbing the head of his cock against the curve of Max's ass. He's throbbing and desperate, but he hesitates. It feels like once they've done this then they can never go back. 

"Any slower and you'd be going backwards," Max taunts, and Ian's over his hesitation. He pushes himself into Max and- 

Oh. Fuck. Ian's eyes roll back in his head. No girl has ever been so perfect and hot and _tight_.

"G-god," Ian stammers.

"It's Max. Not God."

"Do you ever shut," Ian grabs Max's hair and slams all the way in. "the fuck up?"

Max responds with a breathless moan, unable to form a coherent thought. And yeah it's a fucking ego booster to shut up Max with just his cock. 

Ian's in fucking heaven as he fucks Max open in measured thrusts. The combination of his desperation with the wet, pressure of Max around his cock makes Ian tighten his grip in Max's hair. He's not sure if it's the sheer power of fucking another man or maybe the fact this is Max that has Ian so riled up. All he knows is that he wants to stay buried deep inside Max forever. 

But they've both been on edge for so long that they're not gonna last. Ian can already feel the wet precum dribbling inside Max's spanked ass. He curls his fingers around the abused flesh, trying desperately not to cum. His orgasm tightens his thrusts, making them more and more irregular. Judging by the way Max's thick thighs are shaking, he's close too. 

“That’s it,” Ian pants as he pulls out and then pushes back in. “Can tell you're getting close. Been needing me to fuck you this whole semester, haven't you? Been dripping wet. Needed my cock to fill your tight, little ass, isn't that right?" 

Max responds by pushing back into Ian, desperate for _moremoremore_. 

"Shhhh, that's it."

"I-Ian."

"Come on," Ian soothes as he roughly pulls at Max's hair and slams inside. "Want to see you make a mess of yourself and our covers. Want to see you dripping wet with cum. All messy and unable to control yourself."

"IAN!" 

With that Max clenches around Ian's cock and cums. Ian follows him with one last staggered thrust. 

Then he collapses onto Max and just lays there. They're both wet and content and-

"Can you two lovebirds keep it down?" Ethan calls from the other side of the wall. They look at each other and laugh. It really is the worst kept secret.  

They've worked up a sweat, and, as Ian lays his wet forehead against Max's and kisses him, he realizes that their room is warm, for once. In fact, it's the perfect temperature. 

\-------------------

Ian tweets: "I'm gay. No meme. Yes homo."

Twitter goes crazy, so he logs off.

Ian texts his mother: "I'm gay."

 _Yeah, I know_ , she texts him back. _So will you bring Max over now?_

_How did you know? -I_

_Ian, I've seen your Youtube videos. You're not smarter than your mother. Now bring that poor boy over for some dinner -M_

He's not sure wither to laugh or cry, so he does both. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this filth <3
> 
> Leave a kudo/review if you enjoyed this and want more like it! I'm qweenkimchi on Tumblr if you wanna private message me any requests/grievances.


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